GIFT  OF 


—  • 


OUTLAND 


BY 

MARY  AUSTIN 


BONI    AND    LIVERIGHT 
NEW    Yo  R  K  1919 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 

BONI  &   LlYERIGHT,    INC. 


0''  • 


Printed  in  the  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.      CONCERNING    THE    TRAIL    AT    BROKEN    TREE  9 

II.      I    MEET   THE    OUTLIERS    IN    THE    WOOD    AND 

HERMAN   COMES   TO   FIND   ME     ...         24 

III.  I    HEAR    OF    THE    TREASURE    AND    MEET    A 

FRIEND   OF   RAVENUTZI 44 

IV.  THE   MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER     ....         6/ 
V.      THE    LOVE-LEFT  WARD 94 

VI.      IN  WHICH  I  AM  UNHAPPY  AND  MEET  A  TALL 

WOMAN   IN  THE   WOOD 114 

VII.      HERMAN   DEVELOPS   HIS    IDEA          .       .       .       .       137 

viii.    IN    WHICH    HERMAN'S    IDEA    RECEIVES    A 

CHECK 157 

IX.      HOW  THE   KING'S   DESIRE   WAS   DUG  UP,  AND 

BY  WHOM 177 

X.      THE   LEDGE  197 

XI.  HOW  THE  OUTLIERS  CAME  UP  WITH  THE 
FAR-FOLK  AT  A  PLACE  CALLED  THE 
SMITHY,  AND  HERMAN  CAME  BACK  TO 
RIVER  WARD 217 

XII.      HOW     AN     OUTLIER     SAW     A     TALL     WOMAN 
FOLLOWING  A  TRAIL  AND  MANCHA  MET 

THE   SMITH  AGAIN 236 

iii 


418233 


iv  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XIII.  HOW    THEY    FOUND    THE    RUBIES,    AND    THE 

SMITH'S  ACCOUNT  OF  HIMSELF  .     .     .     258 

XIV.  THE  KING'S  DESIRE,  AND  WHAT  BECAME  OF  IT      276 

XV.      HOW  HERMAN  AND  I  CAME   BACK  TO  BROKEN 

TREE 295 


GOTLAND 


OUTLAND 


CONCERNING  THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE 


i 


trail  begins  at  the  Broken  Tree 
with  the  hawk's  nest.  As  often  as  we 
have  talked  of  it  since,  Herman  and 
I,  and  that  is  as  often  as  the  ceano- 
thus  blooms  untimely  for  a  sign  of  rains  de 
layed,  or  there  is  a  low  moon  and  a  follow 
ing  star,  or  a  wind  out  of  the  south  with  the 
smell  of  wild  honey  in  it,  we  have  agreed  to 
gether  that  the  trail  begins  at  Broken  Tree. 

There  were  some  other  landmarks  I  was 
quite  as  sure  of  at  the  time,  but  the  creek 
makes  so  many  turns  here  I  could  never  find 
them  again,  and  the  second  time  of  Herman's 
going  in,  he  had  altogether  other  things  to 
think  about.  So  as  often  as  we  have  occasion 
to  talk  of  it,  we  end  by  saying  that  it  begins 
at  Broken  Tree. 


IQ  OUTLAND 

:  I  ;  remember  very  well  how  Fairshore 
looked  that  day  as  we  stood  gazing  back  at  it 
from  the  edge  of  the  plowed  lands;  the  pines 
sketched  blackly  against  the  smudgy,  fawn- 
colored  slope,  the  sea  as  blue  as  lazuli,  and  the 
leaning  surf.  I  had  another  reason  for  re 
membering  it,  since  it  was  the  last  time  of 
Herman's  asking  and  of  my  refusing  to  marry 
him.  I  don't  know  why  Herman's  being  a 
professor  of  sociology  should  have  led  him  to 
suppose  that  our  liking  the  same  sort  of  books 
and  much  the  same  people,  and  having  be 
tween  us  an  income  fairly  adequate  to  the  exi 
gencies  of  comfortable  living,  should  have 
been  reason  enough  for  my  marrying  him,  but 
he  had  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  that  sum 
mer  trying  to  convince  me  that  it  was.  I  re 
call  being  rather  short  with  him  that  after 
noon.  For,  in  the  first  place,  if  I  had  meant  to 
marry  Herman  I  should  not  have  put  all  I 
had  into  a  house  at  Fairshore,  and  in  the  next 
place,  though  I  had  not  got  to  the  point  of 
admitting  it,  the  house  was  proving  rather  a 
failure. 

For  a  long  time  I  had  believed  that  it  need 
ed  but  a  little  space  of  collected  quietness  for 
the  vague  presages  of  my  spirit  to  burst  freely 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE      n 


into  power.  Somewhere  within  :rtiys<£);f  ,  I  w 
aware  of  a  vast,  undiscovered  country  full  of 
wandering  lights  and  crying  voices,  from 
whence  the  springs  of  great  undertakings 
should  issue.  But  now  that  the  house  was  ac 
complished  and  my  position  in  the  English 
Department  definitely  resigned,  all  that  I  had 
got  by  it  was  an  insuperable  dryness  of  heart 
and  a  great  deal  of  time  which  hung  rather 
heavily  upon  my  hands.  I  had  done  no  work 
at  Fairshore  that  I  was  willing  to  confess  to  in 
print.  I  know  I  should  not,  until  I  could  es 
cape  from  this  inward  desertness  into  that 
quarter  from  whence  still,  at  times,  I  could 
feel  a  wind  blowing  that  trumpeted  up  all  the 
lagging  forces  of  my  soul.  And  just  when  I 
was  wanting  most  to  know  passion  and  great 
freedom  of  feeling,  Herman's  offer  of  a  rea 
sonable  marriage,  of  which  the  particular 
recommendation  was  that  no  feeling  went  to 
it,  took  on  the  complexion  of  a  personal 
affront.  The  more  so  since  there  was  no  very 
definite  way  in  which  I  could  make  clear  to 
Herman  just  what  offended  me. 

He  was  going  on  that  afternoon  to  explain 
to  me  how,  in  a  marriage  free  from  the  dis 
turbances  of  passion  incidental  to  tempera- 


12  :'•••'  'DUTLAND 


&atitfgsj  T4  should  be  at  ease  to  give 
myself  wholly  to  the  business  of  book-making. 
With  all  his  understanding,  Herman  was 
fully  possessed  of  that  Academic  notion  that 
literature  can  be  produced  by  taking  pains  in 
stead  of  having  them.  He  was  very  patient 
with  me  through  it  all,  crediting  my  indiffer 
ence  to  overwork  and  to  nerves,  as  a  man  does 
with  a  woman  when  he  is  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  is  the  matter  with  her.  The  truth  was, 
if  I  was  tired  of  anything,  it  was  of  being  the 
very  things  Herman  most  admired  in  me.  I 
was  growing  every  moment  more  exasperated. 
By  the  time  he  had  got  to  the  point  of  wanting 
to  know  what  more  there  was  that  he  could 
say,  I  had  reached  the  pitch  of  replying  that 
there  could  be  nothing  more  unless  he  wished 
to  say  the  usual  thing. 

"And  that?"  He  turned  to  me  with  a  sin 
cere  and  astonished  inquiry  in  his  lifted 
brows. 

"Would  be  merely  that  you  love  me  and 
can't  live  without  me." 

"Oh,  if  you  want  me  to  say  what  the  gro 
cer's  man  says  to  the  cook  in  the  kitchen!" 
—  he  flushed  —  "but  you  know  very  well, 
Mona,  that  I  am  not  going  to  insult  your  in- 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE      13 

telligence  and  mine  with  the  clap-trap  of  pas 
sion.  Certainly  I've  no  such  cheap  sort  of 
feeling  for  you,  and  I'm  not  such  an  infernal 

cad  as  to  suppose  you  have Mona?" 

It  might  have  been  the  wind  that  blew 
from  the  country  beyond  Broken  Tree  at  that 
moment,  or  something  in  my  face,  that  turned 
that  last  repetition  of  my  name  upon  the  point 
of  interrogation.  Though  it  was  my  crying 
objection  to  Herman  that  he  could  not  pro 
duce  in  me  those  raptures  and  alarms  and 
whirlings  to  and  fro,  out  of  which  I  knew  all 
creative  art  to  proceed,  yet  to  have  him  so 
renounce  for  us  both  the  possibility  of  such  a 
relation  filled  me  with  sudden  wounding  and 
affront.  And  at  that,  or  at  some  new  shadow 
of  wonder  in  his  eyes  with  the  turning  of  his 
voice  upon  the  word,  I  found  myself  so  little 
able  to  give  back  look  for  look,  that  it  was  a 
great  relief  to  me  to  discover  the  hawk's  nest 
in  the  Broken  Tree.  The  creek  makes  a  turn 
here,  and  the  stepping-stones  were  so  far  apart 
it  was  necessary  for  Herman  to  go  ahead  and 
reach  me  back  his  hand.  As  I  swung  past  him 
I  heard  him  say  my  name  again  with  so  new 
a  touch  of  shamed  credulity  that  I  was  glad 
to  put  my  hand  up  over  my  eyes,  making  be- 


14  OUTLAND 

lieve  I  had  not  heard  him,  and  look  very  at 
tentively  at  Broken  Tree. 

It  stands  on  the  upper  bank  of  the  creek, 
snapped  off  midway  by  the  wind.  Below  the 
break  two  great  sweeping  boughs  spread 
either  way  like  the  arms  of  a  guide-post.  The 
nest  is  in  the  splintered  hollow  of  the  trunk. 

"It  is  a  nest,"  I  said,  as  though  a  doubt  I 
had  were  the  reason  for  my  not  hearing  him. 
Herman  was  so  used  to  this  sort  of  interrup 
tion  when  we  walked  in  the  woods  together 
that  I  hoped  it  had  a  natural  sound.  He  an 
swered  quite  simply  that  if  it  was,  it  should 
be  empty  by  this  time  of  the  year.  Sud 
denly  the  hawk,  unfurling  from  the  upper 
branches,  pitched  a  slow  downward  spiral 
above  our  heads,  then  beat  back  into  upper 
air,  uttering  sharp  cries,  and,  settling  slowly 
to  the  left,  preened  himself  and  neglected  us. 
As  if  being  but  a  watchman,  having  cried  our 
coming,  he  had  no  other  interest  in  the  affair. 

Just  beyond  the  pine  there  was  a  thicket 
of  wild  lilac  grown  across  the  way,  and  as  I 
put  up  my  hand  to  defend  my  face,  I  saw  that 
a  light  spray  of  it  had  burst  untimely  into 
bloom.  Though  this  was  the  second  week  in 
October  the  grass  was  brittle  as  new  silk  and 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE      15, 

the  earth  was  hard  with  drought.  I  remember 
holding  the  branch  toward  Herman  for  him 
to  see. 

"Look  how  it  calls  the  rain/'  I  said,  and 
perhaps  something  more,  though  I  do  not  re 
member  what,  about  the  effort  of  nature  to 
rise  to  its  own  expectancy.  I  said  that  first 
because  it  was  exactly  the  sort  of  thing  I  knew 
Herman,  who  thought  he  had  entirely  ration 
alized  his  attitude  toward  out  of  doors,  liked 
least  to  hear  me  say.  But,  perhaps,  because 
the  shadow  of  the  adventure  which  was  to 
prove  him  wrong  about  that  and  so  many 
things  was  already  over  us,  he  had  no  answer 
but  to  reach  out  across  my  shoulder  and  put 
up  his  hand  over  mine  to  bear  back  the  heavy 
branch.  This  was  so  little  the  sort  of  thing  I 
had  learned  to  expect  of  Herman,  and  we  were 
both  so  embarrassed  by  it,  that  we  could  never 
be  quite  sure  which  of  us  saw  it  first.  When 
we  had  pushed  aside  the  ceanothus  there  lay 
the  beginning  of  the  trail. 

It  began  directly  at  the  foot  of  the  pine  as 
though  there  was  some  reason  for  it,  and  ran 
shallow  and  well-defined  through  the  lilac 
thicket  and  up  the  hill. 

Herman  said  it  was  a  deer  trail.     To  the 


1 6  OUTLAND 

casual  eye  it  did  resemble  one  of  those  wood 
land  tracks  made  by  wild  creatures,  begin 
ning  at  no  particular  point,  and  after  contin 
uing  clear  and  direct  for  a  little  distance, 
breaking  off  for  no  reason.  But  there  was 
about  this  trail  a  subtlety,  a  nuance,  slight  dis 
tinctions  in  the  way  the  scrub  was  bent  back 
from  it,  in  the  way  it  took  the  slope  of  the  hill, 
that  made  it  plainly  a  man  trail.  More  than 
that,  I  felt  the  slight  pricking  of  the  blood,  the 
quick  response  of  the  intelligence  to  the  stim 
ulus  of  variations  so  slight  the  observation  of 
them  lies  almost  below  the  plane  of  conscious 
ness.  Herman,  wanting  such  witness  in  him 
self,  could  not  believe,  and  was  concerned 
over  my  mistake.  So  we  went  on  walking  in 
it,  Herman  very  well  satisfied  with  his  ar 
gument,  and  I  saying  nothing  more  about  it. 
As  I  frequently  have  to  do  when  Herman  gets 
talking  of  the  things  which  are  my  province. 

It  was  very  quiet  in  the  wood  that  day, 
scarcely  a  bird  abroad;  now  and  then  a  still, 
winged  insect  threaded  the  green  and  gold 
arcades  of  the  great  fern,  or  a  long  sigh  from 
the  sea,  passed  up  the  hill  along  the  top  of  the 
pines. 

The  trail  cleared  the  scrub  and  went  be- 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE     17 

tween  young  trees,  skirting  a  hollow  planted 
with  lean,  sombre  boles.  The  ground  beneath 
was  white  with  the  droppings  of  shadow- 
haunting  birds.  Beyond  that  there  was  more 
open  going  among  splay-footed  oaks,  crusted 
thick  with  emerald  moss,  all  a-drip  from  their 
outer  branches  with  the  filmy  lace  of  lichen. 
Then  a  pleasant  grassy  space  of  pines  before 
the  close  locked  redwoods  began. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  we  had  been  fol 
lowing  before  we  heard  the  jays,  but  we  had 
come  into  a  little  open  glade  where  lilies  grew, 
through  which  the  trail  seemed  to  lead  to 
one  of  those  places  where  you  have  always 
wished  to  be.  There  we  heard  them  crying  our 
approach.  Herman  said  they  were  jays,  and 
the  first  one  might  have  been.  I  know  the 
high,  strident  call  they  have,  which  another 
hears  and  repeats,  and  another,  until  all  the 
wood  is  cautious  and  awake.  But  one  jay  calls 
exactly  like  every  other,  and  about  this  there 
was  a  modulation  that  assured  while  it 
warned;  that  said:  "I  have  heard;  have  no 
concern  for  me."  And  even  I  could  not  have 
fancied  so  much  as  that  in  the  mere  squawk 
ing  of  jays. 

"Be  still,"  I  said  to  Herman,  who  was  pro- 


1 8  OUTLAND 

testing  cheerfully  behind  me;  "you  have 
waked  the  wood  people  and  now  we  shan't  see 
any  of  them." 

"What  people?" 

"The  people  who  walk  in  the  woods  and 
leave  the  meadows  warm  and  tender,  whom 
you  feel  by  the  pricking  between  your  shoul 
ders  when  you  come  upon  the  places  where 
they  have  been.  The  people  who  made  this 
trail,  whom  we  heard  calling  one  to  another 
just  now.  The  people—  And  just  then 

we  came  upon  the  faggot. 

It  lay  close  beside  the  trail,  little  sticks  all 
in  order  except  a  last  handful  dropped  hur 
riedly  on  top  when  the  faggot-gatherer  had 
started  at  our  approach. 

"Look!"  I  said;  "that  is  what  they  were 
doing  when  we  came  stumbling  on  them." 

It  was  a  faggot,  I  shall  always  insist  that  it 
was  a  faggot,  and  I  should  have  said  so  if 
nothing  had  happened  afterward  to  prove  it. 
Herman  kicked  it  impatiently  with  his  foot. 

"There's  a  literary  temperament  for  you," 
he  protested.  "You  find  a  trail  made  by 
wood-choppers,  you  hear  jays  squawking  and 
see  a  heap  of  brushwood.  Straightway  you 
create  a  race  of  people  to  account  for  them." 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE     19 

"You  said  it  was  a  deer  trail  a  while  ago,"  I 
hinted,  and  Herman  laughed. 

It  was  still  and  warm  in  the  glade;  the 
needles  lay  thick  and  soft  and  no  grass  grew. 
The  scent  of  the  yerba  buena  stole  upon  us 
intermittently,  delicate  pungent  gusts  answer 
ing  each  to  each  like  speech.  All  around  the 
sunlight  lay,  a  thing  palpable,  as  if,  like  the 
needles,  it  had  not  been  lifted  for  a  thousand 
years,  but  mellowed  there  like  wine.  Herman 
stretched  himself  on  the  brown  thick  litter  be 
side  me. 

"Aha,"  he  said,  "if  this  belongs  to  your 
wood  people  they  know  a  good  thing.  It's 
very  nice  of  them  to  lend  it  to  us  for  a  while. 
I  don't  seem  to  feel  any  pricks  between  my 
shoulders,  but  my  heart  beats  remarkably;  so 
don't  give  me  up  yet,  Mona." 

That  was  exactly  like  Herman,  to  argue 
with  your  best  beliefs  until  you  begin  to  think 
there  is  no  other  way  than  to  subvert  your 
whole  scheme  of  existence,  or  to  break  oft  all 
connection  with  him.  And  then  he  abandons 
his  position  with  a  suddenness  that  leaves  you 
toppling  over  your  own  defenses. 

For  a  moment  I  thought  he  might  be  going 
to  revert  to  the  matter  of  my  marrying  him, 


20  OUTLAND 

but  he  lay  tossing  lightly  at  the  dropped 
needles,  and  the  even  breathing  silence  of  the 
wood  closed  in  again.  We  sat  so  long  that  we 
were  startled  on  discovering  that  if  Herman 
got  back  to  the  Inn  in  time  for  the  stage  that 
was  to  take  him  to  his  train,  we  would  have 
to  run  for  it.  And  that,  I  suppose,  was  why 
we  took  so  little  notice  of  the  landmarks  going 
out,  that,  though  I  tried  the  very  next  after 
noon,  I  could  not  find  the  trail  again. 

I  wanted  to  find  it  too,  for  if  I  could  once 
prove  to  Herman  that  there  was  a  reality  be 
hind  that  sense  of  presence  in  the  woods  he 
credited  to  the  whimseys  of  a  literary  imagi 
nation,  I  should  somehow  put  myself  in  a  bet 
ter  case  for  proving — well,  I  did  not  know 
quite  what,  but  I  wanted  to  find  that  trail. 

I  tried  that  day  and  the  next.  Twice  I  found 
the  glade  and  the  sun-steeped  yerba  buena,  for 
the  day  was  warm  and  the  scent  of  it  carried 
far,  and  once  I  got  past  Broken  Tree,  but  I 
could  never  come  into  the  trail  in  any  manner. 

Then  one  day  when  I  had  almost  given  up 
finding  it,  and  had  been  a  long  time  in  the 
woods  without  thinking  about  it,  I  found  my 
self  walking  in  the  glade  again,  and  the  first 
thing  I  noticed  was  that  the  faggot  was  gone. 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE     21 

Although  I  had  been  so  sure  of  its  being  a  fag 
got  in  the  first  place,  I  was  a  little  startled  at 
missing  it,  but  not  in  the  least  alarmed.  The 
day  was  full  of  the  warm  dry  fog  that  goes 
before  a  rain ;  it  cleared  the  ground  and  curled 
midway  of  the  tall,  fluted  trees  like  altar 
smoke.  I  followed  along  the  track,  which  ran 
narrowly  between  the  redwood  boles  toward 
an  open  space,  at  the  back  of  which  was  the 
pool  of  a  spring.  It  gleamed  under  a  leaning 
bay  tree,  silver  tipped  with  light.  And  there 
beside  it  was  a  man  who  so  matched  with  the 
color  of  the  dappled  earth  that,  except  for 
the  motions  of  his  singular  employment,  I 
might  have  missed  seeing  him  altogether.  He 
was  of  a  long  clean  shape,  dressed  as  to 
the  upper  part  of  his  body  in  a  close-fitting 
coat  of  gray  mole-skin.  His  feet  were  cov 
ered  with  sandals.  Long  bands  of  leather  and 
of  a  green  cloth,  coarse  like  linen,  were  laced 
about,  midway  of  his  thighs.  His  coat  had 
been  loosened  at  the  shoulders,  baring  his 
breast  and  arms,  and  as  he  lay  on  the  bank  of 
the  pool,  he  leaned  above  it  and  studied  the 
reflection  of  his  face.  He  had  leaves  of  some 
strange  herb  in  his  hand  which  he  squeezed  to 
gether,  and  having  dipped  it  in  the  water 


22  OUTLAND 

rubbed  upon  his  face  and  hair,  watching  the 
effect  in  the  pool. 

It  was  his  hair  that  caught  my  attention 
most,  for  it  was  thick  and  waving,  and  most 
singularly  streaked  with  white.  That  was  the 
more  strange  because  the  body  of  him  looked 
lithe  and  young.  It  occurred  to  me  that  he 
might  be  remedying  an  offensive  grayness 
as  he  dipped  and  rubbed  and  stooped  to 
mirror  himself  the  better  in  the  bright  water. 
But  before  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  any 
thing  further,  he  turned  and  saw  me. 

The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  thrust  the  hand 
that  held  the  herb  straight  down  into  the  water 
with  a  deliberate  movement — all  the  while 
holding  my  gaze  with  great  fixity  of  purpose, 
as  though  he  would  not  so  much  as  let  it  ques 
tion  what  he  did.  Presently  withdrawing  the 
hand  empty,  he  stood  up. 

As  he  drew  erect  and  clasped  the  upper 
part  of  his  tunic,  I  saw  that  around  his  body 
was  a  sort  of  sash  of  green  cloth  wrapped 
several  times,  and  stuck  through  the  folds  of 
it,  various  tools  of  the  cruder  sort  of  silver 
smiths.  Also,  though  his  figure  was  young, 
the  skin  of  his  face  was  drawn  in  fine  wrinkles. 
He  had  a  thin,  high  nose  with  a  slightly  mo- 


THE  TRAIL  AT  BROKEN  TREE  23 

bile  tip  that  seemed  to  twitch  a  little  with  dis 
trust  as  he  looked  at  me.  The  mouth  below 
it  was  full  and  curved,  his  eyes  bluish  black, 
opaque  and  velvet-looking;  windows  out  of 
which  came  and  looked  boldness,  cunning  and 
power,  and  the  wistfulness  of  the  wild  crea 
ture  questioning  its  kinship  with  man.  All 
this  without  so  much  as  altering  a  muscle  of 
his  face  or  removing  his  gaze  from  mine. 
Then  he  stepped  back  a  space  against  the 
yielding  boughs,  which  seemed  to  give  like 
doors,  and  received  him  without  crackling  or 
sensible  displacement  into  the  silence  of  the 
wood. 


II 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  IN  THE  WOOD  AND 
HERMAN  COMES  TO  FIND  ME 

WHEN    Herman    got    my    letter 
concerning    the    dark    man    un 
der  the  bay  tree,  he  was  wholly 
at  loss  what  to  make  of  it.     He 
was  quite  habituated  to  my  method  of  mak 
ing   believe    to    be    a    story   before   writing 
it,  and  was  always  willing  to  play  up  to  his 
part  as  soon  as  he  learned  what  that  was,  but 
in  this  case  I  had  neglected  to  tell  him.  While 
he  was  reading  the  letter  over,  it  occurred  to 
him  the  whole  thing  might  be  merely  a  child 
ish  pique  because  he  had  scoffed  at  my  wood 
people  in  the  first  place,  and  was  rather  an 
noyed  at  it. 

But  as  often  as  he  went  back  to  the  letter 
he  found  a  note  of  conviction  in  it — for  I  had 
written  it  immediately  after  the  adventure- 
that  overrode  both  of  these  interpretations. 

24 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  25 

After  that  he  was  divided  between  the  fear 
that  I  really  had  been  overworking  and  a  pe 
riod  of  mild  hallucination  had  set  in,  or  the 
possibility  that  I  could  have  met  some  sort  of 
wild  person  in  the  forest  who  might  do  me  an 
injury.  The  most  disturbing  thing  in  the  let 
ter  was  the  declaration  that  I  meant  to  go  back 
as  soon  as  I  could  and  find  out  all  about  the 
woodlander.  The  result  of  all  this  was  that 
after  having  written  me  a  separate  letter  based 
on  each  one  of  these  beliefs,  and  having  de 
stroyed  it,  Herman  left  the  University  Friday 
morning  and  came  down  to  find  out,  if  pos 
sible,  what  really  had  occurred. 

He  arrived  on  the  stage  that  reaches  Fair- 
shore  at  half-past  one,  and  as  he  had  come  di 
rectly  from  his  lecture  room,  he  had  first  to 
have  lunch  and  change  to  his  out-of-door 
clothes.  This  made  it  the  middle  of  the  after 
noon  before  he  reached  the  cottage.  As  soon 
as  he  had  a  glimpse  of  it,  he  experienced  a 
sinking  of  the  heart  that  warned  him  that  I 
was  not  there.  However,  he  went  through 
the  formality  of  knocking  at  the  front  door 
before  going  round  to  see  if  I  had  left  the 
key,  as  I  did  for  short  absences,  or  had  taken 
it  to  the  Inn  as  when  I  meant  to  be  away 


26  OTJTLAND 

several  days.  He  found  the  key  in  the  accus 
tomed  place,  and  something  more  alarming. 
Inside  the  screened  porch  at  the  back  were  the 
three  little  bottles  of  milk  which  the  milkman 
had  left  there  each  evening  that  I  had  been 
away.  So  I  had  been  gone  three  days ! 

The  first  thing  was  to  make  sure  that  I  was 
not  at  Mira  Monte  or  at  Idlewild,  where  I 
went  sometimes  as  the  mood  demanded.  He 
was  very  cautious  about  making  inquiries  at 
the  post-office  and  the  Inn,  for,  of  course,  I 
hadn't  given  Herman  any  right  to  be  inter 
ested  in  my  whereabouts.  And,  of  course,  if  I 
really  had  gone  off  to  hunt  for  hypothetical 
people  in  the  woods,  I  shouldn't  want  it  talked 
about.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  he  had  learned 
nothing  more  definite  than  that  if  I  had 
gone  out  of  town  it  had  not  been  by  the 
regular  stages,  and  nobody  knew  when  or 
where. 

He  decided  then  that  the  occasion  justified 
his  going  into  the  house  to  find  out  if  I  had 
taken  my  suit-case,  or  anything  that  would 
give  a  clue.  By  the  time  he  got  back  to  the 
cottage  it  was  past  four  o'clock,  and  the  milk 
man  had  been  his  round.  There  were  now 
four  little  bottles  on  the  ledge.  This  somehow 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  27 

seemed  to  Herman  so  alarming  a  circum 
stance,  with  its  implication  of  unexpected  de 
tention,  that  with  scarcely  more  than  a  glance 
about  the  house,  he  put  some  crackers  and  my 
traveling  flask  into  his  pocket  and  set  out  al 
most  running  for  Broken  Tree. 

He  said  that  he  found  the  place  with  very 
little  difficulty,  and  without  noticing  particu 
larly  the  way  he  came.  I  have  thought  since 
it  might  be  one  of  the  conditions  of  going 
there,  that  you  must  be  thinking  altogether  of 
other  matters  and  be  concerned  in  the  going 
for  something  more  than  yourself. 

Herman  found  the  trail  and  followed  it  as 
far  as  the  place  of  the  faggot,  and  on  to  the 
point  where  I  had  seen  the  tall  man  washing 
his  hair  at  the  spring.  Though  he  could  have 
had  no  reasonable  expectation  he  had  uncon 
sciously  counted  on  finding  some  trace  of  me 
in  that  neighborhood,  and,  disappointed  in 
that,  was  at  loss  what  to  do.  The  trail, 
which  ran  out  indistinguishably  in  the 
meadow,  began  again  on  the  other  side. 
After  losing  half  an  hour  in  picking  it  up 
again,  he  came  on  half  fearfully,  anticipating 
he  knew  not  what  dread  evidence  at  every 
turn. 


28  OUTLAND 

The  redwoods  grew  close  here  and  the  space 
between  was  filled  with  bluish  gloom  shot 
with  long  arrows  of  the  westering  sun.  The 
trail  ran  crookedly  among  the  clutching  roots. 
Stumbling  near-sightedly  among  them,  he  lost 
it  wholly  and  so  came  by  accident  upon  what 
otherwise  he  might  have  missed.  Where  the 
forest  sheered  awray  from  a  blank,  stony  ledge 
sticking  out  of  a  hill,  there  was  a  clear  space 
with  some  small  ferns  and  a  seeping  spring. 
In  the  soft  earth  about  it  he  found  prints  of 
feet  he  thought  to  be  mine,  and  beside  it,  broad 
and  strong,  the  heavy  feet  of  men.  It  was  by 
now  nearly  dark,  and  Herman  was  so  genu 
inely  alarmed  and  so  poor  a  woodman  that  he 
knew  no  better  than  to  dash  back  among  the 
redwoods  hunting  wildly  for  the  trail  and 
shouting,  "Mona!  Mona!"  for  all  the  wood  to 
hear. 

What  had  really  happened  to  me  was 
alarming  enough  to  think  of,  though  in  truth 
I  had  not  been  very  much  alarmed  by  it  at  the 
time.  The  morning  after  my  writing  to  Her 
man  had  been  one  of  those  pricking  days  that 
come  in  the  turn  of  the  seasons.  Such  a  sparkle 
on  the  approaching  water,  such  a  trumpeting 
from  the  hills,  the  high  vault  full  of  flying 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  29 

cloud,  that  I  struck  with  great  confidence  into 
the  trail  some  distance  beyond  Broken  Tree. 

I  followed  along  where  it  ran  in  a  space 
wide  as  a  wagon  track,  and  opened  into  a 
meadow  full  of  the  airy  whiteness  of  small 
bloom,  floating  above  the  late  yellow  lilies  and 
the  glinting  grass.  I  sat  down  at  its  farther 
•edge,  leaning  against  the  curled  roots  of  the 
redwood,  and  got  as  much  comfort  from  it  as 
though  I  had  been  propped  by  a  human  shoul 
der,  so  full  was  all  the  earth  of  friendly 
warmth  and  quietness. 

There  was  neither  sun  nor  shadow  nor  mov 
ing  wind.  I  sat  and  browsed  along  the  edge 
of  sleep,  slipped  in  and  out,  dozed  and  woke 
to  watch  the  lilies:  lost  myself,  and  snapped 
alert  to  see  the  eyes  of  a  man,  ruddy  and  well- 
looking,  fixed  upon  me  from  between  the 
shouldering  trees.  Not  a  twig  had  snapped 
nor  one  bough  clicked  against  another,  but 
there  he  stood  like  a  stag  gazing,  uncurious 
and  at  ease.  When  he  perceived  that  I  was 
aware  of  him  he  stepped  toward  me,  throwing 
up  his  head,  uttering  the  high  strident  cry  of 
jays,  followed  by  one  bird-call  and  another, 
which  seemed  to  be  answered  in  kind  from 
within  the  forest. 


30  OUTLAND 

He  was  a  man  of  about  forty,  burned  by  the 
sun  with  thick,  tawny  locks  and  a  pointed, 
russet  beard,  wearing  a  single  garment  of  un- 
tanned  skin  that  came  midway  of  his  arms 
and  thighs.  There  were  sandals  on  his  feet 
and  strips  of  leather  bound  about  protected 
him  to  the  knees.  He  was  belted  about  the 
body  with  a  curious  implement  that  might 
have  been  a  sling,  and  from  his  hand  swung  a 
brace  or  two  of  quail. 

The  singular  part  of  this  adventure  was 
that  while  he  stood  there  communicating  in 
his  strange  wordless  fashion  with  all  the  birds 
in  the  woods,  I  was  not  afraid.  He  was  stand 
ing  over  me  in  such  a  manner  that  I  could  not 
have  escaped  him  if  I  would.  Really  I  had  no 
thought  of  doing  so,  but  sat  looking  as  he 
looked  at  me,  and  not  in  the  least  afraid. 

So  occupied  were  we  both  with  this  mutual 
inspection  that  I  did  not  quite  know  how  nor 
from  what  quarter  three  men  came  out  from 
among  the  trees  and  stood  beside  him.  One 
of  them  was  red  and  sturdy  like  the  first,  one 
was  old,  with  a  white  beard  curling  back  from 
his  face  like  the  surf  from  a  rock,  but  exceed 
ingly  well  built  and  with  great  heaps  of  gnarly 
muscles  along  his  breast  and  arms.  The  third 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  31 

was  the  dark  man  I  had  seen  washing  his  hair 
at  the  pool  of  the  Leaning  Bay. 

They  all  looked  at  me  with  amazement  and 
some  consternation.  Words  passed  between 
them  in  a  strange  tongue,  though  it  was  plain 
they  referred  to  the  manner  of  their  finding 
me,  and  what  was  to  be  done  about  it.  At 
length,  the  old  man  having  said  something  to 
the  effect  that  whatever  I  might  be  I  did  not 
appear  particularly  dangerous,  they  laughed, 
all  of  them,  and  made  a  sign  that  I  was  to 
come  with  them  along  the  trail. 

We  moved  slowly;  my  captors,  for  so  I  was 
to  regard  them,  so  disposing  themselves  as  we 
went  that  I  was  scarcely  aware  of  them.  We 
moved  stealthily  from  bole  to  bole,  mingling 
so  with  the  tawny  and  amber  shadows,  that 
time  by  time  I  hesitated,  thinking  myself 
abandoned.  Then  I  heard  the  old  man's 
throaty  chuckle  like  the  movement  of  slow 
water  among  stones,  or  caught  the  bright,  re 
gardful  eyes  of  Ravenutzi  fixed  upon  me  from 
behind  the  interlacing  boughs. 

After  an  hour's  walking  we  came  to  a 
bramble-fenced  hollow,  ringed  with  very  tall 
trees,  smelling  of  the  sun.  Here  there  might 
be  a  dozen  of  the  wood  folks,  with  four  women 


32  OUTLAND 

among  them,  lying  up  like  deer  through  the 
bright  betraying  noon. 

Almost  the  first  thing  I  noticed  was  that 
there  was  no  curiosity  among  them  of  a  pry 
ing  sort  over  my  appearance,  and  no  fear.  As 
if  they  had  never  imagined  that  one  of  my  sort 
could  do  them  harm.  But  there  was  regret- 
fulness,  particularly  among  the  women,  that 
appeared  to  be  strangely  for  my  sake,  and  a 
very  grave  concern.  Moreover,  when  I  spoke, 
—for  I  was  moved  to  speak  at  once  and  de 
clare  that  whatever  the  appearance  of  my 
coming  among  them,  I  meant  no  harm, — they 
turned  all  toward  me,  as  if  merely  by  attend 
ing  quietly  on  this  strange  tongue  they  could 
make  out  what  was  said.  I  presently  discov 
ered  that  they  had  made  it  out,  and  by  keep 
ing  this  same  considered  quietness,  without 
straining  or  trying  to  think  what  the  words 
were,  I  was  able  to  know  what  went  on  about 
me.  Although  it  was  several  days  before  I 
could  communicate  fully,  and  I  do  not  know 
yet,  nor  does  Herman  know,  what  language 
the  Outliers  spoke  among  themselves,  we  were 
able  to  get  along  very  well  in  it. 

They  drew  around  me  in  a  circle,  which 
was  left  open  at  one  side  to  admit  a  man  whom 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  33 

I  guessed  at  once  by  his  bearing,  as  well  as  the 
deference  they  paid  him,  to  be  some  sort  of 
chief  to  them. 

He  was  of  a  singular  and  appealing  beauty, 
so  that  his  bodily  excellence  was  a  garment 
to  him,  and  adorned  the  simplicity  of  his  dress. 
There  was  that  in  his  way  of  standing  which 
moved  one  to  go  up  and  lay  hand  on  him  as  on 
the  stem  of  a  young  cedar.  But  something 
stood  within  him  that  protected  him  more 
than  a  weapon  from  such  impersonality.  As 
he  waited  to  hear  the  account  of  me  which  the 
red  man  gave,  I  felt  I  had  never  such  a  wish 
to  have  a  man  think  well  of  me,  nor  been  so 
much  at  a  loss  how  to  begin  it.  At  the  same 
time  he  seemed  to  be  hearkening  to  something 
within  himself,  something  that,  when  he  asked 
a  question  of  the  women  (which  passed  from 
one  to  another  of  them  with  something  of  de 
nial  and  disclaimer),  seemed  to  speak  more 
loudly.  The  question  appeared  to  refer  to 
something  which  should  have  settled  my  busi 
ness  then  and  there.  The  neglect  of  it  de 
volved  upon  a  woman,  comely  and  perplexed, 
as  though  given  to  too  great  a  sense  of  respon 
sibility,  and  much  overcome  at  being  found 
at  fault. 


34  OUTLAND 

"No  matter,"  he  said  to  her  excuses,  and 
bending  a  troubled  look  on  me,  the  doubt  in 
him  spoke  out  openly. 

"It  was  of  this,  I  think,  she  spoke  to  me." 

At  that  slight  emphasis  the  dark  man  who 
had  the  smith's  tools  on  him,  looked  at  me 
with  so  sharp  and  surprising  an  interest  that  it 
distracted  me  from  noticing  who  it  was  behind 
me  asked  with  some  eagerness: 

"Of  what  did  she  speak?" 

"That  there  was  one  walking  toward  us 
on  the  trail,  bearing  trouble.  On  the  morn 
ing  of  our  leaving,  she  waked  me  early  to 
say  it.  I  am  thinking  this  is  the  one.  If  you 
have  forgotten  the  cup,  Evarra,  it  is  an  omen." 

The  interest  of  all  the  wood  folk  reawak 
ened.  They  began  to  regard  me  with  so  much 
distrust  that  I  was  relieved  when  the  chief 
made  a  sign  to  Noche  to  take  me  a  little  to 
one  side.  Thus  they  talk  more  freely,  looking 
at  me  from  time  to  time,  sometimes  seeming 
to  blame  the  woman,  and  sometimes  to  praise 
her. 

Noche  was  that  same  old  man  who  had 
brought  me  from  the  neighborhood  of  Broken 
Tree,  whose  mild  blue  eyes,  set  rather  shal- 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  35 

lowly  in  a  broad  face,  continued  to  reassure 
me. 

He  sat  off  a  considerate  distance,  and  busied 
himself  with  plaiting  of  leather  thongs.  All 
his  features  were  rugged,  the  mouth  wide,  the 
nose  broad  and  open  at  the  nostrils,  but  blunt 
ed  all  as  if  by  some  yielding  humor  in  him 
which  fitted  oddly  with  the  knotting  of  his 
muscles.  Now  and  then  he  turned  toward  me 
with  chuckling,  slow  laughter  which  served 
in  place  of  comforting  speech. 

Whatever  conclusion  the  woodlanders  came 
to  about  me,  it  was  not  to  take  immediate  tt- 
feet.  They  talked  or  lay  quietly  in  the  fern  as 
deer  lie.  They  slept  much,  but  always  with 
some  on  guard,  dropping  off  with  even  breath 
ing  peace,  and  waking  without  start  or  stretch 
ing,  as  if  wakefulness  were  but  a  wind  that 
stirred  them  by  times,  and  sleep  the  cessation 
of  the  stir. 

Toward  evening  they  rose  and  cooked  a 
meal,  of  which  I  had  my  share — deer  meat, 
wild  honey  in  the  honey-comb,  and  some 
strange  bread.  Two  or  three  others  came  in 
from  hunting;  they  were  dressed  much  the 
same  as  the  red  man  who  had  found  me,  and 
carried  slings  in  their  belts  or  slung  upon  their 


36  OUTLAND 

shoulders.  The  west  was  red  and  the  pines 
black  against  it.  There  rose  a  light  ruffle  of 
wind  and  sighed  through  the  wood.  With  it 
passed  through  the  camp  an  audible  breath  of 
expectation.  One  of  the  women  stood  up  with 
water  in  a  bowl  of  bark,  holding  it  high  above 
her  head  in  the  manner  of  one  celebrating  a 
ritual,  crooning  some  words  to  which  the 
others  made  a  breathy,  soft  response.  She 
turned  the  water  out  upon  the  fire,  the  ashes 
of  which  Noche  deftly  covered,  then,  extend 
ing  the  bowl  toward  the  young  leader,  she 
smiled,  saying: 

"The  word  is  with  you,  Persilope." 
He  took  the  vessel  from  her,  scattering  its 
few  remaining  drops  westward. 

"To  the  sea!"  he  said;  "down  to  the  sea!" 
"To  the  sea!"  cried  the  Outliers,  and 
laughed  and  girt  themselves.  Suddenly  I 
found  myself  caught  up  into  a  kind  of  litter 
or  swing  made  of  broad  bands  of  skin,  in  a 
position  of  great  uneasiness  to  myself,  between 
the  shoulders  of  two  men.  The  whole  body 
of  woodlanders  set  off  rapidly,  but  in  their 
former  noiseless  fashion,  going  seaward. 

The  moon  was  up  and  the  tide  far  out  when 
we  issued  upon  the  promontory  called  Cypress 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  37 

Point.  There  was  little  surf,  and  the  glimmer 
of  the  tide  ran  like  silvered  serpents  all  along 
the  rocks.  With  a  shout  the  Outliers  stripped 
and  cut  the  molten  water  with  their  shining 
bodies ;  laughed  and  plunged  and  rose  again, 
laughing  and  blowing  the  spray  as  long  as  the 
moon  lasted.  They  were  at  it  again  with  the 
earliest  light,  and  I  should  have  known  they 
were  gathering  sea  food  without  what  one  of 
the  women  told  me,  of  a  great  occasion  going 
forward  at  their  home  which  lay  far  from 
here,  and  a  great  feast  of  all  the  tribe.  When 
the  tide  allowed,  they  gathered  fish  and  aba- 
lones,  which  the  women  carried  to  some  secret 
place  among  the  pines  to  cure  and  dry. 

When  the  tide  was  up  the  Outliers  lay  by 
in  the  dark  rooms  of  cypress,  bedded  on  the 
thick,  resistant  boughs,  or  stretched  along  the 
ancient  trunks  so  wried  and  bent  to  purposes 
of  concealment.  Often  in  the  heat,  when  there 
was  cessation  of  the  low  whispering  tones  and 
light  easy  laughter,  I  would  rise  up  suddenly 
seeming  to  myself  quite  alone  only  to  discover 
by  the  stir  of  the  wind  on  hair  or  garment 
the  watchers  lying  close,  untroubled  and  ob 
servant.  While  they  worked  I  lay  bound  light 
ly  under  the  wind-depressed  cypresses  where 


38  OUTLAND 

no  light  reached,  but  strange  checkered  gleams 
of  it  like  phosphorescent  eyes. 

By  night  I  could  hear  the  Outliers  shouting 
strongly  in  the  surf,  and  saw  by  day  the  Chi 
nese  fishing-boats  from  Pescadera  crawl  along 
the  rocks,  and  the  smoke  of  coasting  steamers 
trailing  a  shadow  like  a  dark  snake  on  the 
sea's  surface,  polished  by  the  heat.  The  men 
worked  with  good-will  and  laughter,  always 
with  watchers  out.  If  one  moment  they  were 
hauling  at  the  nets,  at  a  mere  squeak  of  warn 
ing  there  would  not  be  to  the  unpracticed  eye 
so  much  as  the  glint  of  the  sun  on  bare  skin. 
Once  a  great  red  car  came  careering  around 
the  point,  all  the  occupants  absorbed  in 
Bridge,  just  when  the  sea  was  at  its  best,  a  sap 
phire  sparkle  moving  under  an  enchanted  mist 
and  the  land  luminous  with  reflected  light. 

We  could  see  the  casual  turning  of  the  own 
er's  head  as  some  invisible  string  from  the 
guard's  stretched,  pointed  finger  seemed  to 
move  it  like  a  mechanical  toy.  Almost  before 
it  rounded  the  curve,  old  Noche  took  himself 
out  of  the  seaweed  and  blew  foam  at  them  in 
derision. 

The  care  and  keeping  of  me  fell  to  Evarra, 
by  whose  neglect  a  proper  dealing  with  me 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  39 

was  kept  in  abeyance,  and  to  old  Noche,  with 
whom  I  began  to  be  very  well  acquainted. 
Noche  had  the  soul  of  a  craftsman,  though 
with  no  very  great  gift.  Whenever  the  smith 
was  busy  at  a  forge  improvised  of  two 
beach  stones  and  a  flint,  mending  fishhooks 
and  hammering  spear-heads  from  bits  of 
metal  picked  up  along  the  sand,  Noche  would 
choose  to  lie  puffing  his  cheeks  to  blow  the 
fire  while  Ravenutzi  fitted  his  movements  to 
the  rhythm  of  the  wind  as  it  rose  to  cover 
the  light  clink  of  his  hammers.  Or  the  old 
man  would  sit  with  his  lips  a  little  apart  and 
in  his  eyes  the  bright  fixity  of  a  child's,  lay 
ing  out  irridescent  fragments  of  abalone  in  cu 
rious  patterns  in  which  Ravenutzi  took  the 
greatest  interest. 

It  was  singular  to  me  that  the  design  the 
old  man  struggled  with  oftenest,  the  smith  let 
pass.  I  had  observed  this  the  more  because  I 
became  sure  that  there  was  no  smallest  hint 
of  it  escaped  him,  and  the  suspicion  was  fixed 
in  my  mind  by  its  revelation  of  a  great  singu 
larity  in  the  character  of  Ravenutzi  himself. 

Time  and  again  I  had  seen  Noche  laying 
out  his  abalone  pearls  in  a  design  which,  how 
ever  dearly  it  was  borne  within  his  mind, 


40  OUTLAND 

seemed  reluctant  in  expression.  He  would 
place  the  salient  points  of  his  pattern,  connect 
ing  them  by  tracings  in  the  sand,  and  when  he 
had  taken  the  greatest  pains  with  it,  startled, 
would  sweep  out  the  whole  with  his  hand. 
There  were  times  when  its  preciousness  so 
grew  upon  him  that  he  would  not  even  com 
mit  it  to  the  dust,  but  formed  the  delicate  out 
line  with  his  finger  in  the  air. 

One  of  those  occasions,  when  it  was  full 
noon,  and  the  tide  charged  thunderously  along 
the  coast,  all  the  Outliers  lying  up  in  the 
windy  gloom  of  the  cypresses,  I  knew  by  the 
absorbed  and  breathless  look  of  him  that 
Noche  had  accomplished  for  once  the  whole 
of  his  design.  He  bent  above  it  crooning  in 
his  beard,  so  absorbed  in  the  complete  and 
lonely  joy  of  creation  that  he  neither  saw  nor 
sensed  the  shifting  of  the  stooped,  twisty 
trunks  above  him  to  the  form  of  Ravenutzi. 

How  he  had  come  there  I  could  not  im 
agine,  but  there  he  bent  from  the  flat-topped 
foliage,  the  mouth  avid,  the  eyes  burning  and 
curious.  As  the  shifting  of  his  position 
brought  him  into  line  with  my  gaze  he  passed 
to  a  fixed  intentness  that  held  me  arrested 
even  in  the  process  of  thought.  It  left  me 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  41 

uncertain  as  to  whether  it  were  not  I  who  had 
been  caught  spying  instead  of  Ravenutzi,  and 
merely  to  meet  that  look  in  me  had  been,  after 
all,  the  object  of  his  secret  scrutiny. 

And  this  was  what  separated  .him  from  the 
others  more  than  his  dark  skin  and  his  clipped 
and  nasal  speech,  making  me  sure,  before  I 
had  heard  a  word  of  the  Far-Folk,  of  some 
alien  blood  in  him.  Whatever  one  of  the  Out 
liers  did,  whether  you  agreed  with  him  or  not, 
there  was  at  least  no  doubt  about  it. 

That  was  how  the  days  were  going  with 
me  all  the  time  Herman  was  writing  me  let 
ters  and  tearing  them  up  again,  deciding  that 
I  was  mad  or  foolish  or  both. 

On  the  evening  of  the  last  day,  about  the 
time  he  had  entered  on  the  trail  by  Broken 
Tree,  W7e  were  setting  out  for  I  knewr  not  what 
far  home  of  the  Outliers.  I  was  carried  still 
in  my  litter,  but  that  was  more  kindness  than 
captivity,  for  though  I  count  myself  a  good 
walker,  I  made  poor  wrork  of  keeping  even 
with  their  light,  running  stride.  We  were  not 
many  hours  out;  it  was  after  moonset,  and  I 
had  lost  all  track  of  the  time  or  the  way,  being 
a  little  sick  with  the  motion,  and  very  tired  of 
it.  I  could  guess  this  much,  that  we  were 


42  OUTLAND 

rounding  a  steep  and  thick-set  hill  by  what 
might  have  been  an  abandoned  wagon  road, 
for  our  pace  increased  here.  Suddenly  the 
company  was  arrested  by  sharp  resounding 
cries  and  the  crackling  of  underbrush  on  the 
slope  above  us.  So  does  the  night  estrange 
familiar  things,  that  I  could  get  no  clue  at 
all  to  what  the  cries  might  be,  except  that  it 
was  some  creature  blundering  and  crying  dis 
tressfully,  making  as  if  to  cross  our  trail. 

The  Outliers  were  themselves  alarmed  by 
it,  and  considered  a  moment  whether  they 
should  halt  to  let  it  pass  before  us  or  hurry 
on  to  leave  it  behind.  But  the  check  and  the 
beginning  of  movement  had  caught  the  atten 
tion  of  the  lost  creature,  for  it  turned  di 
rectly  toward  us,  and  begun  to  come  on  more 
rapidly,  redoubling  its  cries.  Now  I  thought, 
though  it  seemed  so  extraordinary,  that  it 
said  "Mona!"  in  a  wild  and  urgent  manner. 
Then  it  seemed  to  have  slipped  or  bounded, 
for  the  slope  was  steep,  and  fell  with  a  great 
clatter  of  stones  and  snapping  of  stems  direct 
ly  in  our  trail. 

Several  of  the  men  precipitated  themselves 
upon  it.  There  was  a  short  struggle,  muffled 
groans,  and  quiet.  One  of  them  struck  a  light 


I  MEET  THE  OUTLIERS  43 

from  his  flint  and  showed  a  man,  scratched 
and  disheveled,  lifted  in  the  grip  of  Noche, 
lying  limp  and  faint  back  from  the  knotted 
arms.  I  turned  faint  myself  to  see  that  it  was 
Herman. 


Ill 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE  AND  MEET  A  FRIEND 
OF  RAVENUTZI 

IT  was  the  very  next  day,  and  before  I  had 
learned  as  much  of  Herman's  adventure 
as  I  have  already  set  down,  that  I  be 
gan  to  hear  of  the  Treasure.    My  hear 
ing  became  the  means  of  my  knowing  all  that 
happened  afterwards  in  Outland  on  account 
of  it. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  when  I 
came  out  of  Evarra's  hut  and  found  Her 
man,  with  his  head  bandaged,  lying  on  a  heap 
of  skins  with  old  Noche  on  guard,  plaiting 
slings.  He  had  a  loop  of  raw  hide  about  one 
foot  stretched  straight  before  him  to  keep  it 
taut  as  he  plaited.  Now  and  then  he  turned 
his  face  toward  us  with  a  wordless  reassur 
ance,  but  chiefly  his  attention  was  taken  by 
the  children,  who  cooed  and  bobbed  their 
heads  together  within  the  shadow. 

44 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        45 

Back  of  them  the  redwoods  stood  up  thick 
as  organ  pipes,  and  when  the  wind  stirred,  the 
space  above  was  filled  with  the  click  of  drop 
ping  needles  and  the  flicker  of  light  displaced. 
I  was  going  on  to  inquire  of  Herman  how  he 
happened  to  come  stumbling  on  my  trail  when 
I  thought  him  safe  at  the  University,  but 
Noche  making  a  noise  of  disapproval  in  his 
throat,  I  left  off  at  once,  and  began  to  attend 
to  the  talk  of  the  children.  It  grew  clear  as  I 
fixed  upon  it  or  lapsed  into  unmeaning  mur 
murs  as  my  mind  wandered.  There  were  four 
or  five  of  them  busy  about  those  curious  struc 
tures  that  children  build  with  pebbles  and  pot 
sherds  and  mounds  of  patted  dust,  set  off  by  a 
feather  or  a  flower.  Noche,  it  appeared,  was 
very  good  at  this  sort  of  thing.  To  their  great 
delight,  he  was  persuaded  to  undertake  a  more 
imposing  mound  than  they  could  manage  for 
themselves;  and  presently  I  had  made  out 
idly  that  the  structure  in  the  dust  was  the  pat 
tern  of  a  story  he  was  telling  them.  It  was 
all  of  a  king's  treasure.  Seventy  bracelets  of 
gold,  he  said,  all  of  fine  work,  chased  and 
hammered,  and  belts  of  linked  gold,  and 
buckles  set  with  colored  stones.  He  took  peb 
bles  from  the  creek  and  petals  of  flowers  to 


46  OUTLAND 

show  them  how  tfiat  was,  and  every  child  was 
for  making  one  for  himself,  for  Noche  to  ap 
prove.  Also  he  said  there  were  collars  of  fili 
gree,  and  necklets  set  with  green  stones  of  the 
color  of  the  creek  where  it  turned  over  the 
falls  at  Leaping  Water.  There  were  cups  of 
gold,  and  one  particular  goblet  of  chased  work 
which  an  old  king  held  between  his  knees, 
around  the  rim  of  which  a  matchless  hunter 
forever  pursued  exquisite  deer.  The  stem 
of  it  was  all  of  honey-colored  agate,  and  in  the 
base  there  were  four  great  stones  for  the  col 
ors  of  the  four  Quarters:  blue  for  the  North, 
green  for  the  South  where  the  wind  came  from 
that  made  the  grass  to  spring,  red  for  the 
Dawn  side  of  earth,  and  yellow  for  the  West. 
And  for  the  same  king  there  was  a  circlet  for 
his  brows,  of  fire-stones,  by  which  I  supposed 
he  meant  opals,  half  a  finger  long,  set  in  beaten 
gold.  Also  there  were  lamps,  jeweled  and 
chased,  on  golden  chains  that  hung  a-light 
above  the  kings. 

When  then  one  of  the  children,  who  lay  lis 
tening  with  his  heels  in  the  air,  wished  to 
know  if  it  were  true  what  his  father  had  said, 
that  there  was  evil  in  the  Treasure  which  came 
out  upon  whoever  so  much  as  looked  at  it, 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        47 

there  came  a  rueful  blankness  upon  the  face  of 
old  Noche. 

"Ay,"  said  he,  "and  upon  whoever  so  much 
as  talks  of  it."  And  he  shook  his  neglected 
sling  at  them  as  though  to  have  left  it  off  for 
the  sake  of  a  story  were  a  very  culpable 
matter. 

But  the  children  would  not  have  it  like  that 
at  all.  They  flung  themselves  on  him  in  a 
heap,  and  got  upon  his  back  and  about  his 
neck  and  rumpled  his  hair,  declaring  that  he 
was  the  best  old  man  that  ever  was,  and  he 
must  tell  them  about  the  red  necklace:  till, 
growling  a  little,  but  very  glad  to  be  beguiled, 
Noche  went  on  to  say  there  was  a  necklace  of 
red  stones  so  splendid  that  every  one  of  them 
was  a  little  more  splendid  than  the  next  one. 
Almost  before  he  had  begun  and  before  Her 
man  and  I  had  heard  anything  louder  than  the 
unmeaning  forest  murmurs,  we  saw  the  chil 
dren  rise  to  attention,  and  scatter  suddenly, 
with  gay  little  splutters  of  laughter  like  the 
noise  of  water  spilled  along  the  ground.  They 
disappeared  down  the  trails  that  ran  darkling 
among  the  rooted  columns  of  the  trees. 

There  was  a  certain  dismay  I  thought  on 
Noche's  face  as  he  turned  back  to  his  work, 


48  OUTLAND 

perceiving  that  I  had  listened,  and  not  sure 
how  much  I  had  understood.  He  began  to 
talk  to  us  at  once  about  his  work,  as  though 
that  might  have  been  the  object  of  our  at 
tention.  With  his  hand  he  reached  out  fur 
tively  behind  him  and  destroyed  all  the  pat 
terns  in  the  dust. 

Still  I  found  my  mind  going  back  to  the 
story  with  some  insistence.  Up  to  that  time  I 
had  seen  no  metal  in  the  camp  but  some  small 
pieces  of  hammered  silver  and  simple  tools  of 
hard  iron,  and  no  ornaments  but  shells  and 
berries.  But  there  had  been  a  relish  in  old 
Noche's  telling  that  hinted  at  reality.  I  re 
membered  the  pattern  which  he  had  pondered 
so  secretly  under  the  cypress  trees,  and  it  cam? 
into  my  mind  in  an  obscure  way,  without  my 
taking  any  particular  notice  of  it,  that  this 
might  be  the  pattern  of  the  necklace  of  red 
stones.  I  had  not  time  to  think  further  thon, 
for  the  sound  to  which  the  children  had  an 
swered  was  the  returning  hunt  and  the  Out 
liers  coming  toward  us  on  the  trail. 

It  was  always  so  that  they  came  together 
about  the  time  that  the  blue  haze  and  the  late 
light,  rayed  out  long  level  bars  across  the  hills. 
They  would  be  awake  and  about  at  whatever 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        49 

hour  pleased  them,  and  take  their  nooning  in 
whatever  place.  Through  the  days  there 
would  scarcely  be  so  much  seen  of  them  as 
a  woman  beating  fiber  between  two  stones 
by  a  brook,  or  a  man  cutting  fern  on  a  steep 
slope.  So  still  they  were  by  use,  and  so  habitu 
ated  to  the  russet  earth  and  the  green  fern  and 
the  gray  stone,  that  they  could  melt  into  it  and 
disappear.  Though  you  heard  close  about  you 
low-toned  talk  and  cheerful  laughter,  you 
could  scarcely,  unless  they  wished  it,  come 
bodily  upon  them. 

On  this  evening  all  those  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Deep  Fern  had  come  together,  not 
only  because  of  the  news  of  House-Folk 
brought  to  camp,  but  because  this  was  the  time 
set  for  the  return  of  Trastevera  from  some 
errand  connected  with  the  great  occasion  of 
which  I  had  been  told.  It  was  she  who  had 
seen  trouble  walking  with  us  on  the  trail  from 
Broken  Tree,  and  without  whose  advisement, 
so  Evarra  had  already  explained  to  me,  noth 
ing  would  be  determined  concerning  Her 
man  and  me. 

This  Trastevera  was  also  the  wife  of  Persil- 
ope,  and  whatever  the  business  that  called  her 
from  Deep  Fern  that  day,  she  was  late  return- 


50  OUTLAND 

ing.  All  the  Outliers  had  come  in.  The  light 
had  left  the  lower  reaches  of  the  forest  and 
began  to  shine  level  through  the  fan-spread 
boughs  before  Persilope  came  out  of  the  grass 
walk  where  he  had  been  pacing  up  and  down 
restlessly.  Advised  by  some  sound  or  sense 
too  fine  for  me,  he  lifted  up  his  hand  toward 
that  quarter  of  the  thick-set  grove  that  fenced 
the  far  end  of  the  meadow.  In  the  quick  at- 
tentiveness  that  followed  on  the  gesture,  he 
stood  in  the  flush  of  rising  tenderness  until, 
with  some  others  behind  her,  she  came  lightly 
through  the  wood.  One  perceived  first  that 
she  was  smaller  than  the  others,  most  deli 
cately  shaped,  and  next,  that  the  years  upon 
her  were  like  the  enrichment  of  time  on  some 
rare  ornament. 

I  do  not  know  why  in  our  sort  of  society  it 
should  always  seem  regrettable,  when  not  a 
little  ridiculous,  for  a  woman  to  be  ten  years 
older  than  her  husband.  Since  I  have  known 
the  exquisite  maturity  of  Trastevera's  spirit, 
tempering  her  husband's  passion  to  finer  ap 
preciation  of  her  ripened  worth,  I  have  not 
thought  it  so.  As  she  came  lightly  through 
the  thick  grass  of  the  uncropped  meadow 
there  was,  as  often,  a  glow  upon  her  that 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        51 

might  have  come  from  the  business  she  had 
been  abroad  upon.  It  sustained  her  a  little 
above  the  personal  consideration,  so  that  al 
most  before  she  had  recovered  from  the  flush 
of  her  husband's  embrace,  she  turned  toward 
Prassade — the  red  man  who  had  found  me  in 
the  wood — to  say  that  all  was  as  he  would 
have  wished  it,  and  he  had  good  reason  for 
being  pleased.  This  being  apparently  a  word 
he  had  waited  for,  he  thanked  her  with  a  very 
honest  satisfaction.  Then,  with  her  hand  still 
in  Persilope's,  he  looking  down  on  her  more 
rejoiced  with  having  her  back  from  her  errand 
than  with  anything  she  had  to  say  about  it,  she 
turned  a  puzzled,  inquiring  glance  about  the 
camp. 

"Ravenutzi?"  she  questioned  doubtfully; 
but  the  smith  smiled  and  shook  his  head,  and 
with  one  consent,  as  if  she  had  answered  ex 
pectation,  the  company  parted  and  showed  us 
to  her  where  we  stood.  Without  having  any 
previous  intention  about  it,  I  found  myself  ris 
ing  to  my  feet  to  meet  her,  and  heard  Herman 
scramble  lamely  up  behind. 

She  stood  so,  confronting  us  without  a  word 
for  as  long  as  it  took  Prassade  briefly  to  ex 
plain  how  they  had  taken  us,  and  why  they 


52  OUTLAND 

had  not  done  that  to  us  which  I  already  under 
stood  had  threatened  me  on  the  first  day  of  my 
captivity.  This  was  long  enough  for  me  to 
discern  that  she  was  darker  than  the  other 
Outliers,  that  her  hair  must  have  been  about 
the  color  of  Ravenutzi's  before  it  turned.  Her 
eyes  were  gray  and  clouded  with  amber  like 
the  morning  surf.  She  moved  a  step  toward 
me,  nodding  her  head  to  what  the  young  chief 
said,  and  shaking  it  slowly  to  something  in 
herself.  Wonder  and  perplexity  deepened  in 
her.  Delicately,  as  seeking  knowledge  of  me 
and  not  realizing  that  I  could  understand  her 
speech  or  answer  in  it,  she  drew  the  tips  of 
her  fingers  across  my  breast.  There  was  no 
more  offensiveness  in  the  touch  than  in  the 
questioning  fingers  of  the  blind.  Wonder  and 
perplexity  deepening  still,  she  turned  back  to 
Persilope. 

"I  grow  an  old  woman,"  she  said,  "I  have 
failed  you." 

He  took  the  hand  which  she  put  out  depre- 
catingly,  and  held  it  strongly  against  his 
breast,  laughing  the  full,  fatuous  man's  laugh 
of  disbelief. 

"When  have  you  failed  me?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  protested;  "I  cannot 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        53 

tell ;"  and  I  understood  that  the  doubt  referred 
to  her  failure  to  get  from  me  by  that  contact, 
the  clew  she  sought. 

"Surely  these  are  they  whom  I  feared  for 
you  to  meet  when  you  set  out  for  the  sea1  by  the 
cypresses.  Not  for  what  they  would  do  to 
you" — her  look  was  toward  Persilope — "but 
for  what  they  might  bring  to  all  Outliers. 
But  now  I  am  not  sure." 

She  spoke  as  much  to  the  company  at  large 
as  to  her  husband.  The  number  of  them  had 
increased,  until  I  could  see  the  outer  ring 
melting  into  the  twilight  of  the  trees,  eyes  in 
formless  faces  of  amazement  and  alarm.  Now 
at  the  admission  of  a  difficulty,  they  all  turned 
toward  her  with  that  courtesy  of  inward  atten 
tion  by  which,  when  one  of  them  would  under 
stand  more  of  a  matter  than  lay  directly  before 
him,  each  turned  his  thought  upon  the  subject 
gravely  for  a  time,  like  so  many  lamps  lighted 
in  a  room,  and  turned  it  off  again  with  no  more 
concern  when  the  matter  was  resolved.  But 
even  as  she  smiled  to  acknowledge  their  help 
she  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  repeated,  "I  cannot  tell."  She 
turned  and  looked  at  me,  and  I  gave  her  the 
look  back  with  so  deep  a  wish  to  have  her  un- 


54  OUTLAND 

derstand  that  no  trouble  should  come  to  them 
by  me,  that  she  must  have  sensed  it,  for  her 
look  went  on  by  me  and  stopped  at  Herman. 

"You?"  she  questioned. 

"Tell  'her,"  said  Herman,  who  had  not 
caught  all  the  words,  but  only  the  general 
purport  of  her  speech,  "tell  her  that  all  we 
ask  is  to  go  to  our  own  homes,  unharmed  and 
harming  no  one." 

Now  that  was  not  exactly  what  I  had  in 
mind,  for  though  I  would  not  for  worlds  have 
made  trouble  for  the  Outliers,  I  wished  noth 
ing  so  little  as  being  sent  away  before  I  had 
got  to  know  more  of  them.  But  before  I  could 
frame  a  speech  to  that  end,  Trastevera  spoke 
again  more  lightly. 

"Now  that  I  have  seen  them,  there  seems 
nothing  in  them  but  kindness  and  well-mean 
ing.  Indeed  it  is  so  unusual  a  thing  that 
House-Folk  should  discover  us,  that  I  am  not 
sure  we  ought  not  to  pay  them  some  little  re 
spect  for  it." 

She  made  me  a  little  whimsical  acknowl 
edgment  of  this  sentiment,  but  before  I  could 
think  of  a  reply,  some  slight  shifting  of  the 
ringed  watchers  thrust  forward  Ravenutzi.  I 
recalled  suddenly  what  I  had  neglected  to 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        55 

state  in  the  midst  of  Prassade's  explanation, 
that  his  finding  me  was  not  the  first  intima 
tion  I  had  had  of  the  presence  of  Outliers  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Broken  Tree.  Up  to 
this  time  I  had  observed  that  when  the  Out 
liers  had  their  heads  together  on  any  matter 
of  immediate  concern,  it  had  been  Ravenutzi's 
habit  to  keep  a  little  to  one  side,  as  though  not 
directly  affected.  Now  as  I  saw  him  pushed 
into  the  cleared  space  by  the  stream  side,  it 
stirred  dimly  in  my  mind  that  the  circum 
stance  of  my  first  meeting  with  him,  which  I 
had  not  before  mentioned,  might  mean  some 
thing.  I  hardly  understood  what. 

I  must  have  made  some  motion,  some  slight 
betraying  glance  which  the  smith  detected. 
While  the  words  were  in  my  throat  he  looked 
at  me,  subtly,  somehow  encompassingly,  as  if 
he  had  projected  his  personality  forward  un 
til  it  filled  satisfyingly  all  my  thought.  I 
no  longer  thought  it  worth  while  to  mention 
where  I  had  first  seen  Ravenutzi  nor  what  I 
had  found  him  doing.  I  was  taken  with  a 
sudden  inexplicable  warmth  toward  him,  and 
a  vague  wish  to  afford  him  a  protection  for 
which  he  had  not  asked  and  did  not  apparently 
need.  Swift  as  this  passage  was,  I  saw  that 


56  OUTLAND 

Trastevera  had  noted  it.  Something  dimmed 
in  her,  as  if  her  mind  had  lain  at  the  crossing 
of  our  two  glances,  Ravenutzi's  and  mine,  and 
been  taken  in  the  shadow. 

"For  the  disposing  of  the  House-Folk,"  she 
finished  evenly,  as  though  this  had  been  in 
her  mind  from  the  first  to  say,  "you  had  better 
take  counsel  to  decide  whether  they  shall  be 
given  the  Cup  at  once,  or  be  kept  to  await  a 
sign." 

I  saw  Persilope  stooping  to  her,  urging  that 
she  was  tired,  that  she  had  come  too  far  that 
day,  she  would  be  clearer  in  the  morning.  She 
shook  her  head  still,  looking  once  long  at  me, 
and  once  almost  slyly  at  the  smith,  and  then 
at  us  no  more,  but  only  at  her  husband,  as  she 
walked  slowly  along  the  meadow  against  the 
saffron-tinted  sky.  Then  we  were  taken  away, 
Herman  and  I,  to  our  respective  huts. 

The  place  called  Deep  Fern  by  the  Out 
liers  lay  in  the  middle  of  three  half  hollow 
basins  looking  seaward,  and  clearing  all  the 
intervening  hills.  Barriers  thick  set  with  red 
wood,  dividing  jthe  cupped  space  like  the 
ridges  of  a  shell,  ran  into  a  hollow  full  of 
broad  oaks  and  brambles.  Between  the  ridges 
brooks  ran  to  join  the  creek  that,  dropping  in 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        57 

a  white  torrent  to  the  basin  called  Lower  Fern, 
made  a  pool  there,  from  which  it  was  also 
called  Deer  Lake  Hollow.  The  upper  basin, 
long  and  narrow,  was  named  from  the  falls, 
Leaping  Water. 

The  camp  of  the  Outliers  lay  in  one  of  the 
widest  of  the  furrows  between  the  ridges 
where  the  redwoods  marched  soldierly  down 
to  the  stream  side.  Above  it,  between  Deep 
Fern  and  a  place  called  Bent  Bow,  lay  Coun 
cil  Hollow.  It  was  there,  when  the  moon  was 
an  hour  high,  a  battered-looking  moon,  yellow 
and  low,  went  all  the  Outliers  to  consider  what 
was  to  be  done  about  us.  It  was  a  windy  hol 
low,  oval  shaped,  with  long  white  knuckles  of 
rock  sticking  out  along  the  rim,  where  no 
trees  grew,  nothing  taller  in  it  than  the 
shadows  of  the  penstemon  which  the  moon 
cast  upon  the  rocks.  Whenever  the  wind 
moved,  there  was  a  strong  smell  of  sweet  grass 
and  yerba  buena.  There  would  have  been 
about  thirty  men  of  the  Outliers  gathered 
when  we  came  up  the  ridge  from  Deep  Fern. 
We  halted  with  the  women  at  a  point  where 
we  could  see,  near  to  one  end,  a  little  fire  of 
crossed  sticks  low  on  the  ground.  The  Out- 


5  8  OUTLAND 

Hers  were  at  all  times  sparing  of  fire  and  cau 
tious  in  the  use  of  it. 

The  Council  had  been  sitting  some  time,  I 
think,  upon  other  matters,  when  we  took  up 
our  station  on  the  rising  ground.  Tras- 
tevera  went  down,  winding  between  the  rocks 
toward  the  ruddy  point  of  fire.  The  moon 
was  moving  in  a  shallow  arc  not  high  above 
the  ranges,  and  some  hurrying  clouds  scattered 
the  light.  We  could  see  little  more  than 
the  stir  of  her  going,  the  pale  discs  of  faces 
or  the  shining  of  an  arm  or  shoulder  in  the 
clear  space  between  the  shadows  of  the  clouds. 

She  went  on  quietly,  all  talk  falling  off 
before  her  until  she  stood  in  the  small,  lit 
circle  between  the  leaders,  who  inquired  for 
mally  of  her  had  she  anything  to  say  of  im 
portance  on  the  business  of  the  two  strangers. 

"Only  this,"  she  said,  "that  although  I  was 
greatly  troubled  before  they  came,  by  a  sense 
of  danger  impending,  I  am  now  free  from  it 
so  far  as  the  House-Folk  are  concerned." 

"But  do  you,"  questioned  Prassade,  "sense 
trouble  still,  apart  from  these?"  He  motioned 
toward  Herman  and  me,  who  had  been 
brought  behind  her  almost  to  the  circle  of 
the  flare. 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        59 

"Trouble  and  shadow  of  change,"  she  said, 
and  after  a  pause:  "Shall  I  speak?" 

Without  waiting  for  the  click  of  encourage 
ment  that  ran  about  the  Hollow,  she  began: 

"You  know  all  of  you  that  I  have,  through 
no  fault,  the  blood  of  the  Far-Folk,  which 
has  been  for  a  long  time  the  blood  of  traitors 
and  falsifiers.  And  yet  never  at  any  time  have 
I  played  traitor  to  you  nor  brought  you  un 
certain  word,  except" — I  thought  her  voice 
wavered  there — "in  the  matter  of  the  hostage." 

If  there  had  been  any  wavering  it  was  not 
in  the  councillors,  whose  attention  seemed  to 
stiffen  to  the  point  of  expectation  as  she  went 
on  steadily. 

"When  it  was  a  question  more  than  a  year 
ago  whether  the  Far-Folk  should  send  us  their 
best  man  and  cunningest  as  a  hostage  for  ac 
complished  peace,  you  know  that  I  was  against 
it,  though  I  had  no  reason  to  give,  beyond  the 
unreasoning  troubling  of  my  spirit.  Later 
when  Ravenutzi  was  brought  into  our  borders, 
and  I  had  met  with  him,  there  was  something 
which  sang  to  him  in  my  blood,  and  a  sense  of 
bond  replaced  the  presentiment.  All  of  which 
I  truly  admitted  to  you." 

So  still  her  audience  was,  so  shadowed  by 


60  OUTLAND 

the  drift  of  cloud,  that  she  seemed,  as  she  stood 
with  her  face  whitened  by  the  moon,  and  the 
low  fire  glinting  the  folds  of  her  dress,  to  be 
explaining  herself  to  herself  alone,  and  to  ad 
mit  the  need  of  explanation. 

"And  because,"  she  said,  "I  could  not  be 
sure  if  it  was  a  foreseeing,  or  merely  my  traitor 
blood  making  kinship  to  him,  you  took  the 
matter  to  council  and  accepted  the  hostage. 
Are  you  sorry  for  it?" 

At  this,  which  had  been  so  little  anticipated, 
there  went  a  murmur  around  the  hollow  as 
of  doubt  not  quite  resolved.  Several  cried  out 
uncertain  words  which  a  ruffle  of  wind  broke 
and  scattered.  Prassade  wagged  his  red  beard, 
shouting: 

"No!    By  the  Friend!" 

"Then,"  she  went  on,  more  at  ease,  I 
thought,  "as  it  was  with  Ravenutzi,  so  with 
these.  I  saw  trouble,  and  now  I  do  not  see 
it;  trouble  that  comes  of  keeping  them,  or 
trouble  of  letting  them  go.  That  I  cannot  de 
termine  for  you.  So  I  say  now,  if  you  do  not 
regret  what  you  have  done  by  Ravenutzi,  do 
the  same  with  these,  accept  and  hold  them, 
waiting  for  a  sign." 

She  left  off,  and  the  moon  came  out  of  the 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        61 

cloud  to  discover  how  they  stood  toward  it, 
and  went  in  again  discovering  nothing. 

Then  a  man  who  had  already  pricked  him 
self  upon  my  attention,  stood  up  to  argue  the 
matter.  He  was  short  and  exceedingly  stout 
of  build.  Above  the  thick  bands  of  leather1 
that  protected  his  lower  limbs,  he  wore  no 
dress  but  a  cougar  skin  bound  about  the  thick 
columnar  body  and  held  in  place  by  a  cord 
passing  over  the  shoulder.  He  was  armed 
with  a  crotched  stick  that  had  an  oblong 
pointed  stone  bound  in  the  crotch  by  thongs, 
the  handle  of  which  was  so  long  that,  as  he 
stood  with  his  hands,  which  were  wide  and 
burned  but  shapely,  resting  upon  it,  the  head 
of  the  weapon  lay  upon  the  ground.  What 
was  most  singular  in  his  appearance,  as  he 
stood  blocked  solidly  against  the  half-lit  sky, 
was  his  hair.  It  was  pale  yellow,  crisp  and 
curling,  and  rayed  out  erectly  from  his  head 
as  though  it  were  the  emanation  of  some  natu 
ral  force  or  property  of  the  man,  curiously  and 
independently  alive  above  the  square  and 
somewhat  meaningless  regularity  of  his  coun 
tenance. 

"Why,"  inquired  he,  "were  these  House- 
Folk  brought  here  to  Deep  Fern?    Why  not 


62  OUTLAND 

made  to  drink  forgetfulness  when  first  taken?" 

"Evarra  had  forgotten  the  Cup/'  Persilope 
explained;  "she  thought  it  could  be  gathered 
at  Broken  Tree,  but  she  had  forgotten  how 
much  further  the  season  is  advanced  in  that 
neighborhood." 

"But  now,"  said  Evarra,  "I  have  prepared 
it,  and  there  is  nothing  more  to  do."  She 
came  forward,  and  I  observed  that  she  held  a 
wooden  bowl  against  her  breast  from  which 
steam  arose,  and  an  aromatic  smell. 

The  moon  had  risen  early  on  the  track  of 
the  sun.  The  shallow  lap  of  hills  in  which 
we  stood  gave  directly  westward  to  the  belated 
glow  that  diffused  through  the  moon  shadows 
an  amber  bloom,  in  which,  though  the  faces 
of  the  Outliers  shone  indistinctly,  every  mo 
tion  and  purpose  was  discernible.  I  could  see 
then  that  Evarra's  purpose  was  to  give  Her 
man  and  me  to  drink  of  some  herb  which 
should  cause  us  to  forget  all  that  had  hap 
pened  to  us  since  we  had  crossed  their  borders 
at  Broken  Tree,  and  so  send  us  home  again. 
It  met  with  so  much  approval  that  I  spoke 
hurriedly  to  forestall  it. 

"No,  no!"  I  cried.  "We  have  done  no  harm 
to  you  that  you  should  do  so  great  a  harm  to 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        63 

us.  If  you  must  send  us  away,  why,  send  us, 
and  we  will  give  you  our  word,  and  that  is 
the  best  thing  we  have  to  give,  that  no  one 
shall  know  of  what  has  happened  these  four 
days.  But  do  not  take  away  the  recollection 
from  us."  I  spoke  so  earnestly  and  meant  so 
much  what  I  said,  taking  Herman's  hand  so 
as  to  include  him  in  the  vehemence  of  my 
request,  though  I  do  not  think  he  had  any  par 
ticular  feeling  at  the  time,  that  I  made  some 
way  with  them. 

"Nothing  is  farther  from  our  thoughts,"  I 
said,  seeing  Evarra  hesitate,  "than  to  bring 
harm  upon  you.  Not  for  the  world  would 
we  betray  your  ways  nor  your  homes  nor  your 
treasure— 

I  do  not  know  why  I  should  have  mentioned 
treasure,  except  that  seeing  old  Noche's  flow 
ing  head  outlined  against  the  pale  luminosity 
of  the  sky  that  instant,  brought  it  to  my  mind. 
The  word  popped  out  on  my  tongue  as  sud 
denly  as  it  had  popped  in.  Instantly  there  was 
a  sharp  crackling  of  exclamations  and  a  stir 
as  of  people  rushing  together  when  a  brand 
has  snapped  out  of  the  fire,  followed  by  a  por 
tentous  stillness.  Into  this  bay  of  sound  the 
red-pointed  beard  of  Prassade  projected  itself. 


64  GOTLAND 

"Who,"  he  cried,  "has  been  telling  of  treas 
ure  in  the  hearing  of  House-Folk?" 

"No  one,  no  one,"  I  protested,  anxious  not 
to  provoke  blame;  "it  is  only  that  I  overheard 
the  children " 

KIt  was  I,"  admitted  Noche  regretfully, 
"old  fool  that  I  am.  I  was  telling  the  chil 
dren,  and  I  did  not  think  she  understood  so 
much." 

"Fool!"  said  Prassade;  "and  twice  fool  for 
being  an  old  one!" 

But  Persilope  corrected  him. 

"At  the  time  of  the  Wardship  it  is  permit 
ted  to  tell  the  children  of  the  King's  Desire 
and  the  keeping  of  it." 

"But  not  in  the  presence  of  House-Folk," 
Prassade  insisted,  "nor  by  one  who  thinks  there 
is  no  harm  in  a  jewel  if  only  it  shines  well  and 
has  a  story  to  it." 

There  was  more  to  this  which  the  wind 
broke  and  carried  away,  arms  lifted  and  heads 
cast  up  within  the  shadow,  turbulence  and 
murmurs  of  denial.  I  heard  Trastevera  say, 
half  to  herself: 

"Trouble  come  indeed,  when  one  Outlier 
calls  another  a  fool  in  open  council." 

"It  is  nothing,"  whispered  Evarra  at  my 


I  HEAR  OF  THE  TREASURE        65 

shoulder,  "all  this  talk.  Though  you  had  the 
King's  Desire  in  your  hand,  yet  you  would  stay 
if  Persilope  thought  she  wished  it." 

Then  the  yellow  head  of  Mancha  crinkled 
in  the  circle  of  the  fire,  his  face  under  it  gro 
tesquely  blocked  with  light,  like  some  ancient 
mask,  crying: 

"Signs — do  we  wait  for  Signs?  Here  is  a 
Sign :  first  the  woman  comes,  and  then  the  man 
seeking  her.  Now,  if  they  are  not  returned 
speedily  to  their  own  place  who  may  not  come 
looking  for  the  two  of  them?  And  if,  being 
kept,  they  escape  by  chance  and  go  back  talk 
ing  of  treasure— 

"But  a  Sign!"  cried  Persilope,  interrupting 
him.  "Outliers,  here  is  a  Sign.  These  House- 
Folk  have  found  us  in  a  place  where  none  of 
their  kind  so  much  as  mark  our  trails.  Within 
a  day  after  being  in  our  camp  they  have  heard 
of  the  King's  Desire,  and  talked  openly  of  it. 
This  is  a  Sign  that  they  are  more  favored  by 
the  Friends  of  the  Soul  of  Man  than  any  of 
their  kind.  Is  it  not  a  Sign?" 

We  could  see  men  rising  to  their  feet  here 
and  there,  and  some  cried  out:  "A  Sign!  A 
Sign!"  And  then  other  broken  phrases,  torn 
and  trumpeted  by  the  wind.  Persilope  took 


66  OUTLAND 

the  bowl  from  Evarra,  holding  it  out  over  the 
fire  with  a  motion  to  extinguish  the  dying 
flame. 

"One  has  seen  strangers  coming,  and  strange 
things  have  come;  shall  we  not  wait  upon 
her  word?"  he  cried.  I  could  make  nothing 
of  the  confused  murmur  which  ringed  the 
hollow.  Persilope  must  have  read  acquies 
cence  in  it,  for  he  partially  emptied  the  con 
tents  of  the  bowl  upon  the  fire  and  then  passed 
it  to  Mancha,  Ward  of  the  Outer  Borders,  to 
see  what  he  would  do.  Mancha,  smiling, 
handed  the  cup  to  Trastevera  as  a  sign  of  un 
broken  confidence;  she,  as  I  guessed,  so  accept 
ing  it.  That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  her  before 
Evarra  hurried  me  away,  holding  high  the 
bowl,  slowly  pouring  the  ceremonial  water, 
silvered  by  the  moon. 


IV 

THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER 

WITHIN  five  days,  during  which 
it    rained    and    cleared,    a    fine 
long  growing  rain  that  left  the 
world  new  washed  and  shining, 
the  Meet  of  the  Outliers  was  moved  to  Leap 
ing  Water. 

This  was  the  amphitheater  of  the  terraced 
basin  lying  next  above  Deep  Fern,  and  took 
its  name  from  the  long  leap  of  the  creek  that 
came  flashing  down  arch  by  arch  from  the 
high,  treeless  ridges.  Five  leaps  it  took  from 
Moon-Crest  to  the  Basin,  where  it  poured 
guttering,  in  so  steep  a  channel  that  the  spray 
of  it  made  a  veil  that  shook  and  billowed 
with  the  force  of  its  descending  waters.  It 
trailed  out  on  the  wind  that  drove  continually, 
even  on  the  stillest  days,  between  the  high 
wings  of  the  mountain,  and  took  the  light  as 
it  traveled  from  east  to  west  and  played  it 

67 


68  OUTLAND 

through  all  its  seven  colored  changes.  It  was 
like  a  great  pulse  in  the  valley,  the  throb  and 
tremble  of  it,  flushing  and  paling.  The  Basin 
was  clear  meadow  land,  well-flowered,  close 
set  by  the  creek,  but  opening  well  under  the 
redwoods,  with  here  some  sunny  space  of 
shrubs,  and  there  stretching  up  into  the  mid 
dle  region  of  white  firs  dozing  on  the  steeps 
above  the  water. 

It  was  here  we  began  to  learn  about  the 
Love-Left  Ward  which  was  the  occasion  of 
their  coming  together. 

The  very  first  I  heard  of  it  was  from  Evar- 
ra's  slim  lad,  Lianth,  who,  when  he  was  sent  to 
keep  me  company,  would  lie  on  the  fern,  prop 
ping  his  chin  upon  his  hand,  and  sing  to  me 
in  his  reedy  unsexed  voice,  of  a  maiden  who 
had  left  loving  for  the  sake  of  a  great  service 
to  her  tribe.  Then  plucking  up  the  brown 
moss  by  the  roots,  examining  it  carefully,  he 
would  ask  me  if  I  thought  it  was  really  right 
for  a  girl  to  do  that  sort  of  thing. 

"What  sort?'7 

"Give  up  loving  and  all  her  friends,  boys 
she's  always — liked,  you  know,  and  keep  a 
Ward,  like  Zirriloe." 

"Did  she  do  that?" 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       69 

"Well,  they  chose  her  to  be  the  Ward  this 
year,  and  her  father  let  her.  I  don't  think  he 
ought!" 

"Why  not?" 

Lianth  was  not  very  clear  on  this  point,  ex 
cept  as  it  involved  the  masculine  conception  of 
beauty  as  the  sign  of  a  real  inward  precious- 
ness.  Zirriloe  had  a  way  of  walking,  like  a 
wind  in  a  blooming  meadow,  she  had  a  cheek 
as  soft,  as  richly  colored,  as  the  satin  lining  of 
unripened  fir  cones  which  he  broke  open  to 
show  me.  Therefore  Prassade  shouldn't  have 
let  her  forswear  all  loving  for  ten  years. 

"She  can't  even  look  at  a  boy,"  said  Lianth; 
"only  at  old  men,  Noche  and  Waddyn  and 
Ravenutzi,  and  if  there  was — anybody — had 
thought  of  marrying  her,  he'd  have  to  give  up 
thinking  about  it  for  ten  years.  And  anyway, 
what  is  the  good  of  giving  a  girl  secrets  to 
keep  if  you  have  to  watch  her  night  and  day 
to  see  that  she  keeps  them?" 

There  was  a  great  deal  more  to  this  which 
Herman  learned  from  the  men  and  the  girl's 
father.  Prassade,  whose  eldest  child  she  was, 
felt  himself  raised  to  immeasurable  dignity  by 
the  choice  of  Zirriloe,  who  was  in  fact  all  that 
Lianth  reported  her,  and  more.  To  his  pride 


70  OUTLAND 

it  was  a  mere  detail  that  during  the  ten  years 
of  her  Wardship  she  was  to  live  apart  from  all 
toward  whom  her  heart  moved  her,  kept  by 
old,  seasoned  men,  who  never  left  her  except 
with  others  older  and  less  loverly  than  them 
selves.  These  six  months  past  she  had  been 
with  her  watchers  in  a  lonely  place,  learning 
by  trial  what  it  meant  to  have  left  all  love  to 
become  the  Ward  of  mysteries. 

It  was  there  Trastevera  had  been  when  I 
first  saw  her,  to  examine  the  girl  and  discover 
if  her  mind  was  still  steadfast. 

So  she  found  it,  and  so  reported  it  to  Pras- 
sade,  and  all  things  being  satisfactory,  the 
feast  of  the  Love-Left  Ward  was  to  take  place 
on  the  fifth  day  from  this.  When  her  term 
was  done  the  Ward  took  the  Cup,  and  so  for 
getting  all  she  had  heard,  returned  to  the  nor 
mal  use  of  women. 

"But,"  I  said  to  Lianth,  once  when  we  were 
gathering  elderberries  by  the  creek,  "what  is 
it  all  about,  this  secret  which  Zirriloe  must 
keep,  and  is  not  trusted  in  the  keeping?" 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  impatiently,  kicking  at 
the  mossy  stones  in  the  water-bed.  "Ask 
Noche — he  is  one  of  the  keepers." 

I  should  have  taken  that  advice  at  once,  but 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       71 

Noche  was  away  at  the  Ledge,  or  River  Ward, 
or  wherever  the  girl  was,  and  Evarra  was 
much  too  busy  to  talk.  Practically  all  the 
Outliers  were  expected  at  Leaping  Water,  and 
there  was  a  great  deal  to  do.  As  to  how  many 
there  were  of  them,  and  what  places  they  came 
from,  I  could  never  form  any  idea,  since  out 
side  of  Council  Hollow  they  never  came  to 
gether  in  the  open.  At  the  fight  at  River 
Ward  there  were  forty  picked  men,  slingsmen 
and  hammerers,  but  counting  women  and 
children  there  must  have  been  quite  four  times 
that  number  at  Leaping  Water.  They  ran  to 
gether  like  quail  in  the  wood,  and  at  a  word 
melted  like  quail  into  its  spacious  silences. 

There  was  that  subtle  essence  of  rejuvena 
tion  in  the  air  that  comes  after  rain.  Buds 
of  the  incense  shrub  were  swelling  and  odor 
ous.  All  the  forest  was  alive  and  astir  with  the 
sense  of  invisible  friendly  presences  and  low- 
toned  happy  talk  that  seemed  forever  at  the 
point,  under  cover  of  a  ruffling  wind  or  screen 
ing  rush  of  water,  of  breaking  into  laughter. 

We  came  often  upon  lovers  walking  in  the 
high  arched  aisles,  children  scuttling  pink  and 
unabashed  in  the  dappled  water,  or  at  noons, 
men  and  women  half  sunk  in  the  fern  deep  in 


72  OUTLAND 

gossip  or  dozing.  Such  times  as  these  we  began 
to  hear  hints  by  which  we  tracked  a  historic 
reality  behind  what  I  had  already  accepted 
heartily,  and  Herman  with  grudging,  the  ex 
istence  of  the  King's  Desire. 

They  would  be  lying,  a  dozen  of  them  in 
company  on  the  brown  redwood  litter,  the 
towered  trunks  leaning  to  the  firs  far  above 
them.  Then  one  would  begin  to  sing  softly  to 
himself  a  kind  of  rhymeless  tune,  all  of  dead 
kings  in  a  rock  chamber  canted  in  their  thrones 
by  the  weight  of  jewels,  and  another  would 
answer  with  a  song  about  a  lovely  maid  play 
ing  in  sea  caves  full  of  hollow  light. 

By  this  we  knew  the  thoughts  of  all  of  them 
ran  on  the  story  which  held  the  songs  together 
like  a  thread.  We  discovered  at  last  that  it 
was  the  history  of  the  place  from  which  they 
had  come  to  Outland,  bringing  the  Treasure 
with  them,  pursued  by  the  Far-Folk.  Or  per 
haps  it  was  they  who  were  the  pursuers,  but 
the  Treasure  had  been  the  point  of  their  con 
tention,  and  it  had  cost  the  Outliers  so  much 
that  they  had  come  to  abhor  even  the  posses 
sion  of  it.  So  having  buried  it,  they  made 
their  honor  the  keeping  of  the  secret.  Be 
cause  the  first  disturbance  over  it  that  reft 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       73 

them  from  their  country  had  been  brought 
about  by  the  treachery  of  a  woman,  they  put 
a  woman  to  the  keeping,  half  in  irony,  I  think, 
for  then  they  had  set  a  watch  upon  the  woman. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Herman  waked 
to  an  interest  on  the  occasion  that  nothing  else 
had  been  able  to  arouse  in  him.  He  thought 
that  a  community  which  had  arrived  at  the 
pitch  of  understanding  that  the  best  thing  to 
be  done  with  wealth  was  to  get  rid  of  it,  would 
repay  study.  I  remember  his  wondering  if  the 
Outliers  had  had  any  more  trouble  with  their 
Treasure,  or  what  they  imagined  as  such,  for 
he  never  would  credit  its  reality,  than  we  had 
experienced  with  the  Coal  Oil  Trust.  I 
paid  very  little  attention  to  him,  for  all  my 
mind  was  occupied  in  watching  Ravenutzi. 

From  the  first  I  had  noticed  that  whenever 
there  was  one  of  those  old  tales,  or  any  talk  of 
the  King's  Desire,  something  would  spring  up 
in  his  face,  as  slight  as  the  flick  of  an  eyelid 
or  the  ripple  of  muscles  'at  the  corner  of 
his  mouth,  but  something  at  which  caution 
snapped  wide-awake  in  me.  I  recall  how  once 
we  lay  all  together  at  the  bottom  of  the  wood 
in  the  clear  obscure  of  twilight,  in  a  circular, 
grassless  space  where  the  water  went  by  with 


74  OUTLAND 

a  trickling,  absent  sound.  One  of  the  young 
men  began  to  sing,  and  Ravenutzi  had  stopped 
him  with  some  remark  to  the  effect  that  the 
Outliers  could  sing  it  so  if  it  pleased  them, 
but  the  story  as  it  was  sung  was  not  true. 

"Come,"  said  the  youth,  "I  have  always 
wanted  to  know  how  the  Far-Folk  told  that 
part  of  the  tale  so  as  not  to  be  ashamed  of  it." 
Prassade  sprang  up  protesting  that  there 
should  be  no  communication  between  them 
and  the  Hostage  on  a  forbidden  matter.  Some 
debate  followed  among  the  elders  as  to  that. 
I  could  see  the  smith  sitting  in  his  accus 
tomed  attitude,  knees  doubled,  hands  clasped 
about  them,  his  chin  resting  on  his  knees.  The 
eyes  were  black  in  the  twilight  under  the 
faun's  profile  and  the  streaked,  springy  hair, 
yet  always  as  if  they  had  a  separate  furtive  in 
telligence  of  their  own.  It  occurred  to  me 
suddenly,  that  in  this  very  debate  precipitated 
by  Ravenutzi,  the  Outliers  were  talking  about 
the  Treasure,  and  that  he  did  not  care  in  what 
fashion  so  long  as  they  talked.  Instinctively 
as  I  felt  this,  turning  in  my  mind  like  a  weed 
in  the  surf,  I  looked  toward  Trastevera  as  one 
turns  in  a  dim  room  toward  the  light,  holding 
out  my  mind  to  her  as  to  one  of  better  sight. 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       75 

...  In  the  stir  of  my  turning,  slight  as  it  was, 
I  caught  the  eyes  of  Ravenutzi,  the  iris, 
opaque  and  velvety,  disappearing  under  the 
widening  pupil  of  his  fixed  gaze.  I  felt  the 
rushing  suggestion  back  away  from  the  shore 
of  my  mind  and  leave  it  bare.  There  was 
something  I  had  meant  to  speak  to  Trastevera 
about,  and  I  had  forgotten  what  it  was. 

It  was  brought  back  to  me  the  next  day, 
which  was  the  one  before  the  move  to  Leap 
ing  Water.  We  were  sitting  in  Evarra's  hut, 
Herman  and  I,  with  Noche,  for  the  wind  and 
cloud  of  the  Council  had  contrived  to  blow  up 
a  rain  that  drummed  aloud  on  the  bent  fern 
but  scarcely  reached  us  through  the  thick  tent 
of  boughs.  Above  us  we  could  hear  the  wind 
where  it  went  hunting  like  a  great  cat,  but 
down  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit  of  redwoods  it 
could  scarcely  lift  the  flap  of  the  door. 

And  without  some  such  stir  or  movement 
of  life  within,  one  might  have  passed  a  trail's 
breadth  from  the  house  of  Evarra  and  not  sus 
pected  it,  so  skillfully  was  it  contrived  within 
one  of  those  sapling  circles  that  spring  up 
around  the  decayed  base  of  ancient  redwoods, 
like  close-set,  fluted  columns  round  a  ruined 
altar.  Every  family  had  two  or  three  such 


76  OUTLAND 

rooms,  not  connected,  not  close  together,  but 
chosen  with  that  wild  instinct  for  unobtrusive- 
ness  with  which  the  Outliers  cloaked  the  busi 
ness  of  living.  From  the  middle  of  one  of 
these,  smoke  could  go  up  through  the  deep 
well  of  green  and  mingle  undetected  with  the 
blue  haze  of  the  forest.  Deep  within,  tents  of 
skin  could  be  drawn  against  the  rain  which 
beat  upon  them  with  a  slumberous  sound  and 
dripped  all  down  the  shouldering  colonnade. 
The  tent  was  half  drawn  this  morning,  and 
no  drops  reached  us,  but  seldom,  light  spat- 
terings  from  high,  wind-shaken  boughs. 
Evarra  was  abroad  looking  after  her  family, 
and  Noche  had  come  over  with  Herman  to 
sit  housed  with  me.  The  Outliers  had,  from 
such  indifferent  observation  as  they  had  made, 
got  the  notion  that  House-Folk  were  of  great 
fragility  as  regards  weather.  They  were  ex 
ceedingly  careful  of  us,  though  I  had  seen 
Noche  laugh  as  he  shook  the  wet  from  his 
body,  and  take  the  great  gusts  of  wind  as  a 
man  might  the  moods  of  his  mistress.  He  sat 
opposite  us  now  on  a  heap  of  fern,  busy  at  his 
sling-plaiting,  with  the  placidity  of  a  spinning 
Hercules,  and  in  a  frame  to  be  entertaining. 
It  occurred  to  me  it  might  be  an  excellent  time 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER      77 

to  beguile  him  into  talk  of  the  Treasure,  much 
to  Herman's  annoyance,  for  he  was  of  the 
opinion  that  my  having  been  a  week  among 
the  Outliers  and  no  harm  having  come  of  it, 
was  no  sign  it  wouldn't  come  eventually. 

"Don't  meddle  with  their  tribal  mysteries," 
he  protested;  "if  it  hadn't  been  for  their  con 
founded  Treasure  we  would  have  been  on  the 
trail  for  home  by  now." 

"But  consider,"  I  explained  to  Herman  for 
Noche's  sake;  "if  we  drink  Forgetfulness  at 
the  last,  what  does  it  matter  how  much  we 
know  before?  And  besides,  he  is  suffering  to 
tell  me.  Go  on,  Noche." 

Once  you  had  old  Noche  started,  his  talk 
ran  on  like  the  involute  patterns  he  loved  to 
trace  upon  the  sand,  looping  to  let  in  some 
shining  circumstance  or  set  off  some  jewel  of 
an  incident.  It  was  a  wonderful  treasure  by 
his  account:  lamps  thick  with  garnets,  crusted 
with  amethysts,  and  the  cup  of  the  Four  Quar 
ters  which  a  dead  king  held  between  his  knees. 

Outside  we  could  hear  the  creaking  of  the 
boughs  as  the  wind  pounced  and  wallowed, 
stalking  an  invisible  prey.  Within  the  hut  we 
saw  in  the  old  man's  story,  the  summer  island 
from  which  the  tale  began,  far  southward,  ris- 


78  OUTLAND 

ing  from  the  kissing  seas.  All  at  once  he  left 
off,  breathing  quick,  his  nostrils  lifted  a  little, 
quivering,  his  head  turning  from  side  to  side, 
like  a  questing  dog's.  We  had  heard  nothing 
but  the  trickle  of  rain  down  the  corrugated 
trunks,  but  Noche,  turning  his  attention  to 
ward  the  doorway,  twitched  his  great  eye 
brows  once,  and  presently  broke  into  smiling. 
"Trastevera,"  he  said;  and  then  a  very  cu 
rious  thing  happened.  Some  patches  of  the 
red  and  brown  that  had  caught  my  attention 
from  time  to  time  at  the  burl  of  the  redwood 
opposite  stirred  and  resolved  into  Ravenutzi. 
How  long  he  had  been  there  I  had  no  notion. 
Though  I  was  well  acquainted  with  that  wild 
faculty  of  the  Outliers  to  make  themselves 
seem,  by  very  stillness,  part  of  the  rock  and 
wood,  I  was  startled  by  it  quite  as  much  on 
this  occasion  as  on  the  first  time  of  my  meet 
ing  him.  It  was  not  as  though  Ravenutzi 
made  himself  known  to  us  by  a  movement, 
but  drew  himself  out  of  obscurity  by  the  force 
of  his  own  thinking.  The  fact  of  his  being 
there  seemed  to  shoulder  out  all  question  as  to 
why  he  was  there  in  the  first  place.  He  was 
looking,  with  that  same  curious  fixity  that 
held  me  when  I  caught  him  dyeing  his  hair  at 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER      79 

the  spring,  not  at  me,  but  at  Trastevera  ap 
proaching  on  the  trail.  She  came  up  the  trail 
in  that  lifting  mood  with  which  the  well  body 
meets  weather  stress,  as  if  her  spirit  were  a 
sail  run  up  the  mast  to  catch  the  wind.  She 
came  lightly,  dressed  as  the  women  mostly 
were,  in  an  under  tunic  of  soft  spun  stuff,  of 
wood  green  or  brown  color,  but  her  outer  gar 
ment  was  all  of  the  breasts  of  water  birds, 
close-fitted,  defining  the  figure.  She  looked 
fairly  back  at  Ravenutzi  as  she  came,  smiling 
from  below  her  quiet  eyes.  He  walked  on 
past  her  so  casually  that  only  I  could  say  that 
he  had  not  merely  been  passing  as  she  passed. 
But  I  was  sure  in  my  own  mind  he  had  been 
sitting  close  by  Evarra's  hut  for  a  long  time. 

She  gave  us  Good  Friending  as  she  came 
in,  but  it  was  not  until  Noche,  in  response  to 
a  sign  from  her,  had  taken  Herman  out  by  the 
brook  trail,  that  she  spoke  to  me  directly. 

"If  you  made  a  promise  to  me  in  regard  to 
your  being  here  and  what  you  shall  see  among 
us,  would  he,  your  friend,  be  bound  by  it?" 

"Well,  in  most  particulars;  at  any  rate,  he 
would  give  it  consideration." 

"Does  he  love  you?" 

"No,"  I  said.    I  was  sure  of  that  much. 


8o  OUTLAND 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"By  the  best  token  in  the  world.  He  has 
told  me  so." 

"Ah!"  She  looked  at  me  attentively  a  mo 
ment,  as  if  by  that  means  she  might  discover 
the  reason. 

"Then  in  that  case  he  will  probably  do  as 
you  say.  If  he  loved  you,"  she  smiled,  "he 
would  expect  you  to  do  as  he  said." 

She  loosened  her  feather  coat,  shaking  out 
the  wet,  and  took  from  Evarra's  wall  an  ob 
long  piece  of  cloth,  brown  and  yellow  barred 
like  the  streakings  of  sunlight  on  the  bark  of 
pines,  and  disposed  it  so  that,  with  the  folds 
lying  close  and  across  the  slender  body  and  the 
two  loose  ends  falling  over  the  shoulders,  she 
looked  like  some  brooding  moth  that  bides  the 
rain  under  a  sheltering  tree. 

"You  are  so  much  more  like  us,"  said  she, 
"than  I  would  have  expected;  so  much  more 
understanding.  Have  you  Far-Seeing?" 

"How  Far-Seeing?" 

"There  are  some  among  us,"  she  said,  con 
sidering,  "who  can  lie  in  their  beds  at  night 
and  hear  the  deer  crossing  at  Lower  Fern; 
some  who  can  stand  in  their  doors  and  see  the 
face  of  a  man  moving  on  the  cliffs  at  Leaping 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       81 

Water.  But  I  am  one  who  can  see  trouble 
coming  before  the  bearer  of  it  has  reached 
Broken  Tree.  Have  you  such?" 

"I  have  heard  of  them." 

"Do  you  know  then  if  they  see  better  or 
worse,  for  loving?" 

I  could  not  tell  her  that,  though  I  wished 
to,  since  she  made  such  a  point  of  it.  I  had  to 
content  myself  with  asking  her  how  it  was 
with  herself. 

"Very  much  better,"  she  laughed,  and  col 
ored;  "or  worse."  She  frowned,  sighing.  "I 
will  tell  you  how  that  is." 

"When  I  was  just  grown,"  said  Trastevera, 
"I  was  chosen  to  be — to  fulfill  a  certain  duty 
which  falls  every  ten  years  to  some  young 
woman  of  the  tribe.  It  was  a  duty  which  kept 
my  heart  occupied  so  that  there  was  no  time 
for  loving  or  being  loved.  I  was  much  apart 
and  alone,  and  it  was  then  that  my  Gift  came 
to  me,  the  gift  of  Far-Seeing.  It  served  the 
tribe  on  many  occasions,  particularly  on  one 
when  we  were  at  war  with  the  Far-Folk.  I 
saw  them  breaking  through  at  River  Ward, 
and  again  I  saw  them  when  they  tried  to  get  at 

us  from  the  direction  of  the  sea But  it 

was  not  of  that  I  meant  to  tell  you.  After  I 


82  OUTLAND 

was  released  from  my  duty  I  had  planned  be 
cause,  because—  She  seemed  to  have  the 
greatest  difficulty  getting  past  this  point, 
which  for  so  direct  a  personality  as  hers  was 
unusual.  I  gathered  that  the  matter  was  in 
volved  in  the  tribal  mysteries  which  Herman 
had  warned  me  to  avoid,  so  I  could  not  help 
her  much  with  questioning. 

"Because  of  a  certain  distinction  which  they 
paid  me,  I  had  planned,"  she  went  on  at  last, 
"to  have  no  love  and  no  interest  but  theirs. 
It  came  as  a  shock  to  me  when  Persilope  was 
made  Warden  of  the  Council,  to  find  that  it 
was  agreed  on  every  side  that  I  should  marry 
him." 

"Didn't  you  love  him  then?"  I  was  curious 
to  know. 

"I  scarcely  knew  him,  but  I  knew  what  he 
was,  and  if  it  was  thought  best  for  me  to  love 
him,  I  wished,  of  course,  to  do  what  was  best. 
And  Persilope  wished  it  also." 

"You  could  do  that?  Love,  I  mean  where 
you  were  told  to  love."  Somehow  the  idea 
filled  me  with  a  strange  trepidation. 

"If  the  man  was  love  worthy,  why  not?" 
She  was  surprised  in  her  turn.  "So  long  as 
my  heart  was  not  yet  given,  it  was  mine  to  give 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       83 

where  the  Outliers  would  be  best  served  by 
it.  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she  asked,  sensing 
my  incredulity,  "that  it  is  not  so  with  the 
House-Folk?  Do  you  not  also  serve  the  tribe 
most?" 

"With  our  lives  and  our  goods,"  I  admitted. 

"But  not  with  your  loving?  But  if  you  love 
only  to  yourselves,  is  not  the  common  good 
often  in  peril  from  it?" 

"Often  and  often,"  I  agreed.  Suddenly  it 
began  to  seem  a  childish  and  ineffectual  thing 
that  we  should  be  in  the  most  important  issues 
of  life  so  at  the  mercy  of  place  and  incident, 
obscuring  coquetries  and  tricks  of  dress. 

"Sometimes  it  is  so  with  us,"  she  agreed, 
"but  not  with  people  like  myself  and  Persil- 
ope.  When  it  was  brought  to  our  notice  how 
all  the  Outliers  would  be  benefited  by  our 
uniting  his  practical  sense  with  my  far-seeing, 
we  held  our  hearts  out  like  a  torch  and  lighted 
each  from  each."  They  could  do  that  it 
seemed,  these  Outliers,  apt  full  natures,  they 
could  rise  in  the  full  chord  of  being  and  love 
without  other  inducement  than  the  acknowl 
edgment  of  worth.  That  was  why  the  Out 
liers  took  no  notice  of  what  I  was  secretly 


84  OUTLAND 

ashamed  of  having  noticed,  that  she  was  years 
older  than  her  husband. 

Leaving  the  habits  of  the  House-Folk, 
Trastevera  went  on  with  her  narrative. 

"We  have  a  custom  when  we  are  married," 
she  said,  "of  choosing  where  it  shall  be.  We 
set  forth,  each  from  his  own  home,  all  our 
friends  being  apprised  of  what  we  are  about 
to  do  and  wishing  us  well.  Then  we  come  to 
the  place,  each  by  his  own  trail,  meeting  there 
under  no  eyes.  When  a  month  is  done  we  go 
home  to  our  friends,  who  make  a  great  to-do 
for  us.  There  is  a  hill  I  know,  looking  sea 
ward,  a  full  day  from  here.  There  are  pines 
at  the  top  and  oaks  about  the  foot,  but  the 
whole  of  it  is  treeless,  grassy,  with  flowers  that 
sleep  by  day  among  the  grasses.  It  is  neither 
windy  nor  quiet,  but  small  waves  of  air  run 
this  way  and  that  along  the  grass,  and  make 
a  changing  pattern.  Here  I  chose  to  meet 
Persilope.  All  day  I  went  down  by  Deer 
Leap  and  River  Ward  to  meet  my  man,  and  he 
came  up  by  Toyon  and  the  hiving  rocks  to 
meet  me.  All  day  I  felt  him  come,  and  the 
earth  felt  him :  news  of  him  came  up  through 
the  grasses  and  touched  my  finger-tips."  She 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       85 

flushed  a  little,  and  finished  simply:  "When 
we  came  back,"  she  said,  "I  had  reason  to  be 
lieve  I  had  lost  the  gift  of  Far-Seeing.  It  was 
while  we  were  away  that  the  Far-Folk  had 
opened  the  matter  of  the  hostage,  and  the 
Council  waited  for  Persilope  to  come  back 
from  his  wedding  to  decide  what  was  best  to 
be  done.  The  people  were  for  the  most  part 
glad  to  put  an  end  to  quarreling." 

This  was  the  first  time  that  I  realized  that 
there  was  another  sort  of  woodlanders  beside 
the  Outliers.  Up  till  this  time,  when  I  had 
heard  mention  of  Far-Folk,  I  thought  it  per 
haps  another  sort  of  name  for  us,  House 
Livers,  as  they  called  us  indifferently,  or  Dig 
gers,  or  They  of  the  Ploughed  Lands,  as  peo 
ple  will  speak  of  a  wild  species,  very  common 
but  of  too  little  interest  to  be  named  or  known. 

"So  soon  as  I  had  heard  of  the  Far-Folk's 
plan  to  send  us  their  smith  as  a  perpetual  host 
age,"  she  went  on,  "I  was  chilled  with  pre 
science  of  disaster,  and  said  so  freely.  But 
when  Ravenutzi  came  to  council,  and  I  had 
looked  him  through,  I  was  warm  again.  You 
heard  how  I  said  last  night  that  I  could  not 
tell  if  it  was  the  blood  of  the  Far- Folk  play 
ing  traitor  in  me,  of  it  there  was,  in  fact,  no 


86  OUTLAND 

shadow  coming.  So  I  was  obliged  to  say  to 
the  Council,  and  they  on  their  own  motion, 
without  any  help  from  me,  accepted  him.  No 
one  has  blamed  me" — she  mused  a  little,  with 
her  chin  upon  her  hand — "but  ever  since  I 
have  been  afraid.  There  might  really  have 
been  some  intimation  of  coming  evil  which 
my  happiness,  going  from  me  to  everything  I 
looked  upon,  dispelled  as  a  bubbling  spring 
breaks  up  a  shadow." 

She  rose  and  walked  from  me  a  little  space, 
returned,  and  stood  before  me  so  intent  upon 
getting  some  answer  more  than  my  words,  that 
I  thought  it  best  to  let  no  words  trouble  her. 
Presently  she  went  on : 

"Since  then  I  have  had  no  serious  fore 
casting  that  concerned  the  Outliers  at  large. 
But  some  days  before  Prassade  first  found  you, 
I  had  a  vision  of  Broken  Tree  and  a  bird 
rising  from  it  crying  trouble.  There  was 
shadow  lying  on  my  world,  and  dread  of  loss 
and  change.  But  this  is  the  strangest  thing  of 
all.  When  I  had  seen  you  I  saw  more  than 
that.  Between  you  and  Ravenutzi  there  was 
some  bond  and  understanding." 

"No,  no!"  I  protested;  "on  his  part,  yes, 
some  intention  toward  me,  some  power  to 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       87 

draw  me  unaware  to  meet  some  end  of  his. 
And  yet.  .  .  ." 

"And  yet  you  like  him?" 

I  admitted  it.  Though  I  had  no  special 
confidence  in  his  purpose,  I  felt  my  soul  invite 
his  use. 

"And  that,"  said  Trastevera,  "is  why  I  have 
kept  you  here  and  advised  that  you  be  told 
anything  it  is  lawful  for  an  Outlier  to  know. 
Ordinarily  when  we  find  House-Folk  among 
us  we  give  them  the  Cup  and  let  them  go. 
But  since  you  are  to  drink  forgetfulness  at  last, 
before  that  happens  you  may  be  of  use  to  me." 

"But  how?" 

Though  I  had  more  curiosity  than  concern, 
I  could  see  doubt  pulsing  in  her  like  the  light 
breathing  of  a  moth.  She  resolved  at  last. 

"Even  if  you  betray  me,  there  is  still  the 
Cup,"  she  said.  "You  have  already  been  of 
use  to  me,  for  as  I  came  into  camp  last  night 
I  felt  the  shadow ;  it  was  not  on  you  when  I 
looked,  but  when  Ravenutzi  looked  at  you  I 
saw  it  fall,  and  it  fell  from  him." 

She  considered  me  attentively  to  see  what 
I  would  make  of  this,  but  not  willing  to  say 
until  I  had  considered  it  myself,  I  spoke  of 


88  OUTLAND 

the  Cup ;  beginning  to  take  it  seriously  for  the 
first  time. 

"Of  what,"  said  I,  "will  it  make  me  for 
getful?" 

"Everything  at  first,  but  by  degrees  the  past 
will  clear.  Only  around  all  that  happens  here, 
and  around  the  circumstance  of  your  drink 
ing  it,  there  will  be  the  blank  of  perfect  sleep." 

"But  why  are  you  so  sure  in  sparing  me, 
that  I  shall  be  able  to  serve  you?" 

"How  could  you  help  it?"  She  looked  at 
me  in  quick  surprise.  "You  are  not  like  your 
friend  is  who  says  this  is  good  or  not  good,  and 
that  is  the  end  of  it.  You  are  one  in  whom  the 
vision  clouds  and  colors.  By  the  color  of  your 
mind  when  it  falls  under  Ravenutzi's  I  shall 
learn  perhaps  whether  to  trust  my  old  distrust 
of  him  or  my  present  friendliness. 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  perceiving  so  readily  at 
that  instant  the  half  conviction,  half  credulity, 
of  my  mind  toward  her  that  she  was  embar 
rassed  by  it.  "Is  it  so  among  House-Folk  that 
they  must  always  explain  and  account  for 
themselves?  If  I  said  to  an  Outlier  that  he 
could  help  me  he  would  not  have  questioned 


it." 


"But  what  am  I  to  do?" 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       89 

"Hold  the  will  to  help  me.  Be  friends  with 
the  smith  if  he  is  friendly,  and  say  nothing  of 
this  to  any  one  but  me.  When  your  time 
comes  to  take  the  Cup  I  will  see  that  it  is 
made  light  for  you." 

It  did  not  sound  very  difficult,  and  perhaps 
I  did  not  take  it  very  seriously;  at  any  rate  I 
gave  the  promise.  Trastevera  unwinding  her 
self  from  the  striped  cloth  like  a  moth  coming 
out  of  a  chrysalis,  resumed  her  feather  coat 
and  left  me  with  that  suddenness  I  had  learned 
to  expect  of  the  Outliers,  like  a  bird  flitting 
or  a  weasel  slipping  in  the  chaparral. 

On  the  very  first  occasion  of  our  being  alone 
together  after  that  I  demanded  of  Evarra 
what  Trastevera  had  meant  by  saying  that  she 
was  of  the  blood  of  Ravenutzi,  and  that  the 
blood  was  traitorous.  I  could  ask  that  safely, 
because  I  had  learned  that,  except  in  the  one 
important  matter  of  the  Treasure,  the  Outliers 
had  no  skill  in  concealments  and  no  knowl 
edge  whatever  of  indirection.  It  was  as  if 
somewhere  in  their  history  they  had  so  sick 
ened  of  the  stuff  of  treachery  that  their  teeth 
were  set  on  edge  at  the  mere  attitudes  of  it, 
tricks,  pretensions  and  evasions. 

So  I  knew  that  if  I  opened  a  forbidden  mat- 


90  OUTLAND 

ter,  Evarra  would  tell  me  so  flatly,  and  that 
would  be  the  end  of  it.  And  if  it  was  per 
missible  to  speak  at  all,  she  would  do  me  no 
such  discourtesy  as  not  to  speak  freely. 

It  was  a  very  old  affair,  she  said,  but  one 
well  known  among  the  Outliers.  In  one  of 
their  quarrels  with  the  Far-Folk  one  of  their 
own  women  was  taken  and  kept.  Afterward  she 
had  been  returned  to  her  home  by  purchase, 
and  had  had  a  child  shortly  after,  begotten 
upon  her  unwillingly  by  one  of  the  Far-Folk. 
From  that  child  Trastevera  was  descended. 
The  blood  of  the  Far-Folk,  said  Evarra,  was 
a  foul  strain,  but  they  had  mixed  it  with  the 
best  of  theirs,  and  there  was  no  more  treason 
left  in  it  than  there  was  soiling  of  last  season's 
rains  in  the  spring  that  watered  Deep  Fern. 
None  of  the  Outliers  had  even  remembered 
it  until  Ravenutzi  came.  As  for  these  Far- 
Folk,  they  were  to  the  Outliers  all  that  cat 
was  to  dog,  hill-dwellers,  seeking  treeless 
spaces,  holes  in  the  rock  and  huts  of  brush; 
wiry  folk,  mocking  and  untruthful.  But  they 
were  such  inveterate  craftsmen  that  a  man  of 
them  could  sooner  smudge  himself  at  a  forge 
making  a  knife  to  trade  you  for  a  haunch  of 
venison,  than  go  a-hunting  for  his  meat  him- 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER      91 

self.  It  was  so  most  of  the  iron  implements  I 
had  noticed  had  been  circulated  among  the 
Outliers.  For  their  part  they  preferred  cast 
ing  themselves  joyously  forth  on  the  day  to 
come  back  well  furnished  by  their  own  hands. 

But  a  man  of  the  Far-Folk  would  sit  all  day 
with  his  nose  to  a  bit  of  hammered  metal, 
graving  on  it  strange  patterns  of  beasts  and 
whorls  and  lacing  circles.  When  it  was  done, 
said  Evarra,  there  was  no  great  pleasure  in 
it,  for  it  would  not  glitter  as  a  bit  of  shell,  nor 
brown  nor  brighten  as  a  string  of  berries,  nor 
be  cast  every  hour  in  a  new  pattern  like  a  chap- 
let  of  flowers,  but  remained  set  forever,  as  the 
Far-Folk  in  their  unkempt  ways. 

They  were  pilferous  too,  and  lived  in  such 
relation  as  weasels  might  to  the  people  of  the 
Ploughed  Lands;  by  which  term  she  always 
spoke  of  the  few  farmers  whose  homesteads 
I  could  occasionally  see  from  Outland.  The 
Far-Folk  would  go  down  by  night  across  the 
borders  of  the  Outliers  to  the  farmyards  for 
their  scraps  of  metal,  and  ate  fruit  from  the 
orchards.  It  was  to  purchase  free  passage  for 
such  expeditions  through  disputed  territory 
that  they  had  given  hostage  to  their  foes  at 
Deep  Fern;  free  leave  to  go  and  come  from 


92  OUTLAND 

Deer  Leap  to  the  River  Ward,  and  between 
Toyon  and  Broken  Head.  Up  to  this  time  the 
compact  had  been  scrupulously  kept,  though 
it  was  evident  from  Evarra's  manner  of  ad 
mitting  it,  she  begrudged  any  good  opinion  I 
might  have  of  the  Far-Folk  on  that  account. 

"And  what  harm  have  you  had  from  Ra- 
venutzi?" 

Ah,  that  was  as  might  be,  if  you  counted  the 
failure  of  Trastevera's  visions  and  his  mak 
ing  a  fool  of  old  Noche  with  his  smith's  tricks. 
The  old  man  had  thought  of  little  this  year 
past  but  forge  work  and  designs — and  prating 
to  the  children  of  the  King's  Desire.  "If  it 
had  been  my  child  listening  to  him,"  finished 
Evarra,  "I  should  have  smacked  him." 

All  of  which  I  told  to  Herman  at  the  first 
opportunity.  And  also  that  I  should  never 
be  happy  one  moment  until  I  had  found  out 
what  fact,  if  any,  lay  behind  the  story  of  the 
King's  Desire. 

"What's  the  good  of  finding  out,"  said  Her 
man  gloomily,  "if  we  have  to  take  their  ever 
lasting  dope  on  top  of  it?" 

"And  within  three  days  of  the  most  sophis 
ticated  society  on  earth,"  I  reminded  him. 
"They  are  having  the  golf  tournament  at 


THE  MEET  AT  LEAPING  WATER       93 

Mira  Monte  this  week.     Could  you  believe 
it?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  he  in 
sisted.  "This  is  just  one  of  the  tales  you've 
made  up,  and  you've  hypnotized  me  into  going 
through  with  it,  but  I  don't  believe  it  at  all." 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD 

I  WAS  sitting  under  a  toyon  tree  watch 
ing  Evarra  brew  forgetfulness  in  a  pol 
ished  porphyry  bowl,  when  Herman 
came  by.  It  was  the  morning  of  the 
Meet.  The  Cup  was  wanted  for  her  who  was 
the  Ward,  and  Evarra  took  a  great  deal  of 
pains  with  the  brew,  heating  the  bowl  slowly 
and,  when  the  dry  leaves  began  to  smoke  and 
give  off  an  odor  of  young  fir,  dropping  water 
gently  and  setting  it  to  steep  in  the  sun.  I  had 
hoped  to  discover  What  plant  it  might  be,  but 
there  was  little  to  be  guessed  except  that  it 
had  a  blue  flower  taken  in  the  bud,  and  smelled 
like  a  wood  path  in  the  spring.  Evarra  sat 
and  stirred  under  the  toyon  and  answered  my 
questions  or  not  as  she  was  inclined. 

"Do  you  know  any  sort  of  an  herb,  Evarra, 
that  will  turn  gray  hair  black  again?" 

"That  I  do;  and  black  hair  gray  if  you  wish 

94 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  95 

it."  But  I  had  not  caught  the  significance  of 
her  statement,  when  Herman  came  along, 
bursting  full  of  news.  He  was  looking  almost 
handsome  that  morning,  for  he  had  put  on  the 
dress  of  the  Outliers  for  the  first  time,  and 
though  he  had  managed  it  so  as  to  cover  more 
of  his  skin  than  was  their  fashion,  it  became 
him  very  well.  Some  satisfying  quality 
streamed  from  him,  according  with  the  day. 
As  if  he  had  laid  off  something  besides  the 
dress  which  had  come  between  him  and  the 
effect  I  had  wished  him  to  have  on  me. 

"Come  up  the  trail  with  me;  I  have  some 
news  for  you,"  he  began.  "May  she?" 

This  last  was  to  Evarra.  With  all  the  basin 
of  Deep  Fern  and  Leaping  Water  full  of  their 
own  folk  we  had  been  allowed  to  move  freely 
about  among  them,  but  there  was  still  a  form 
of  keeping  us  under  guard. 

"Go  up,"  said  Evarra,  probably  glad  to  get 
rid  of  me,  "as  far  as  Fallen  Tree,  where  you 
can  see  the  Leap  between  that  and  the  clear 
ing.  I  will  join  you  presently.  You  can  see 
the  procession  best  from  there,  when  it  first 
comes  out  of  the  wood." 

The  dew  was  not  yet  gone  up  from  the 
shadows  nor  the  virgin  morning  warmed  a 


96  OUTLAND 

whit  toward  noon ;  the  creek  sang  at  the  curve, 
I  felt  the  axles  of  the  earth  sing  as  it  swung 
eastward.  I  spread  out  my  arms  in  the  trail 
and  touched  the  tips  of  the  growing  things, 
and  felt  the  tide  of  abundant  life  rise  through 
my  fingers.  Herman  strode  in  the  trail  ahead 
and  called  over  his  shoulder: 

"What  are  you  laughing  at  back  there, 
Mona?" 

"News,"  I  answered,  for  I  had  remembered 
suddenly  something  Trastevera  had  said  to 
me. 

"What  news?" 

"How  should  I  know,  except  that  it  is  good 
news?  The  meadowsweet  told  it  to  me. 
What's  yours?" 

"That  Treasure  you're  so  keen  about; 
they've  really  got  it.  I've  talked  with  men 
who've  seen  it." 

"Noche?" 

"He  hasn't  come  back  yet,  but  Waddyn,  one 
of  the  keepers — there  were  four  of  them — 
dug  it  up  ten  years  ago  and  reburied  it." 

"But  why?" 

"That's  my  news.  On  account  of  Traste 
vera.  She  was  the  Ward  ten  years  ago,  and 
they  were  afraid  to  give  her  their  wretched 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  97 

drug  lest  they  should  destroy  her  gift  of  Far- 
Seeing,  as  they  call  it.  So  they  took  counsel 
and  decided  to  change  the  hiding-place.  Pras- 
sade  said  it  wasn't  an  altogether  popular  move 
ment.  Some  of  the  Wards  haven't  taken  kind 
ly  to  the  Cup  when  their  turn  came,  and  they 
feared  the  precedent.  But  anyway  they  did  it. 
They  made  a  cordon  round  the  place  where 
it  was  hid,  three  days'  journeys  wide,  and  the 
four  old  men  went  in  and  dug  up  the  Treas 
ure  and  buried  it  again." 

"All  those  jewels  and  beaten  gold?" 

"Whatever  it  is  they've  got,  colored  pebbles 
most  likely.  It  wouldn't  have  been  so  bad, 
Prassade  says,  changing  the  place  of  the 
Treasure;  that  has  happened  several  times  in 
their  history.  But  while  they  had  it  up  they 
had  a  look  at  it,  and  Noche's  head  has  been 
turned  ever  since." 

"I  should  think  it  might.  It's  all  true, 
then?" 

"Folk  tales,  likely;  all  tribes  have  them." 
Though  his  face  was  turned  from  me  on  the 
trail,  I  could  feel  Herman's  professional  man 
ner  coming  on  again.  "It  is  extraordinary, 
though,  how  their  social  organization  is  so 
nearly  like  to  what  you  would  expect  of  a 


98  OUTLAND 

highly  civilized  people  thrown  suddenly  back 
on  the  primal  environment.  Take  their  no 
tions  of  property  now— 

What  he  was  going  to  say  must  have  been 
very  interesting,  but  just  at  this  point  we  came 
to  Fallen  Tree,  and  saw  the  irised  banner  of 
the  Leap  floating  before  its  resounding  crash 
of  waters.  A  little  spit  of  grassy  land  ran  here 
from  the  clearing  into  the  dense  growth,  and 
the  trail  entered  by  it.  Beyond  it,  pale  late 
lilies  censed  the  shadows  of  the  redwoods,  and 
below  in  the  meadow  there  was  nothing  fairer 
than  the  bleached,  wind-blown  hair  of  the 
children,  as  they  ran  and  shouted  through  the 
scrub.  Evarra  came  hurrying  with  the  Cup 
against  her  breast.  Prassade  and  Persilope 
took  up  a  station  of  some  prominence  on  the 
point  opposite  us,  with  Mancha  behind  them, 
leaning  on  his  long  weapon.  Presently  the 
flutes  began. 

The  sound  of  them  stole  upon  us  softly 
from  far  within  the  redwoods,  keyed  a  little 
under  the  bell  tones  of  the  creek,  and  rising 
through  it  to  the  pitch  at  which  the  water  note 
seems  forever  at  the  point  of  breaking  into 
speech.  As  the  procession  skirted  the  meadow, 
the  music  emerged  in  a  tune  fetching  and  hu- 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  99 

man.  Now  you  heard  the  swing  of  blossoms 
by  runnels  in  the  sod,  the  beat  of  spray  on 
the  bent  leaves  by  the  water  borders;  then 
the  melody  curling  and  uncurling  like  the 
ringlets  on  a  girl's  neck.  With  the  music  some 
sort  df  pageant  passed,  boys  and  girls  wreathed 
and  dancing,  forming  as  they  wound  in  the 
wood  glooms,  breaking  and  dissolving  where 
the  trail  led  through  the  bright,  sunned  space 
of  the  meadow.  We  could  hear  from  the  Out 
liers  ranged  about  the  clearing,  light  applause 
of  laughter  like  the  patter  that  follows  the 
wind  in  the  quaking  asp. 

The  pageant  circled  the  open  space  around 
which  rippled  the  curved  blade  of  the  creek, 
and  came  to  halt  behind  Persilope  and  the 
Council.  Then  a  drum-beat  arose  and  rolled 
steadily,  the  four  keepers  came  out  of  the 
wood;  Noche  and  Waddyn  and  two  others  I 
did  not  know  or  observe,  except  that  they  were 
not  young  and  carried  the  occasion  solemnly. 
The  keepers  took  up  their  station  on  either 
side  of  the  meadow,  and  the  two  foremost,  sa 
luting,  passed  on  a  little  beyond  the  chief. 
Into  the  hollow  square  thus  formed  for  her, 
came  the  maiden  Ward. 

First  as  she  stood  there,  one  realized  in  her 


ioo  OUTLAND 

figure  the  springing  pose  of  immaturity,  in  her 
gaze  the  wraptness  and  fixity  of  the  devotee. 
Altogether  she  was  of  so  exquisite  a  finish  and 
delicacy  that  one  would  wish  to  have  plucked 
her  like  a  flower.  She  was  dressed  in  a  smooth, 
seamless  bodice  of  tawny  skin,  baring  the 
throat  and  rounded  upper  arm;  below  that  a 
skirt  of  thin  green  was  shaped  to  her  young 
curves  by  the  vagrant  wind.  Her  hair,  which 
was  all  of  burnt  gold,  powdered  with  ashes 
of  gold,  was  drawn  loosely  back  and  confined 
close  to  her  head,  but  fell  free  to  her  hips, 
blown  forward,  defining  her  like  the  sheath  of 
a  flower.  Her  brows  also  were  touched  with 
gold  and  the  eyes  under  her  brows  were  like 
agate  at  the  bottom  of  a  brook. 

She  wore  no  jewels  but  a  thread  of  scarlet 
berries  that,  in  its  revealing  femininity,  in  the 
way  it  took  the  curve  of  her  slender  throat  and 
ran  into  the  little  hollow  between  her  breasts, 
so  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  had  never  seen  a  more 
endearing  ornament.  As  she  appeared  among 
us, — for  though  she  had  walked  very  quietly 
out  of  the  forest  there  was  that  appealing  qual 
ity  of  her  loveliness  which  gave  to  her  coming 
the  swiftness  of  a  vision, — as  she  appeared 


THE  LOVE-LEFT*  WARD          w, 

thus,  a  ring  of  smiling  ran  sensibly  about  the 
hushed,  observing  circle. 

She  moved  in  the  exultation  of  her  shining 
mood,  unconscious  of  the  way  her  feet  went 
or  what  eyes  were  upon  her,  to  the  sound  of 
the  shallow  drums  and  the  delicate  high  flutes. 
As  the  music  dropped  she  stopped  before  Per- 
silope,  who  stood  forward  a  little  with  some 
formal  words  of  ritual  or  salutation.  I  missed 
the  exact  words,  all  my  attention  taken  up 
with  what  had  happened  to  Mancha.  He 
had  been  standing  just  behind  the  chief,  and 
in  the  brief  interval  while  Zirriloe  had  come 
ten  steps  or  so  out  of  the  shadow,  he  had 
passed,  as  though  her  beauty  had  been  some 
swift,  vivifying  shock,  from  being  a  grave  be 
holder  to  an  active  participant  of  the  occa 
sion.  Deep  red  surged  up  in  his  face  and  left 
it  pale  again,  his  eyes,  which  were  blue, 
burned  amber  points  and  took  her  like  a  flame. 
He  shook  as  though  the  joints  of  his  spirit 
were  loosed,  and  took  the  full  red  under-lip 
in  his  teeth  to  keep  back  the  tide  of  strength 
that  came  on  him  as  he  looked  at  her.  His 
breath  came  purringly.  I  saw  the  soul  of  the 
man  lithe  and  rippling  in  him,  the  glint  of 
his  eyes,  the  mass  and  thickness  of  his  body 


OUTLAND 

incredibly  lifted  and  lightened  by  the  con 
sciousness  of  the  Mate.  He  did  not  know 
What  had  happened  to  him,  but  he  laughed 
to  himself  his  joy  in  her,  as  she  moved 
wrapped  in  her  high  errand  down  the  still 
summer  glade,  and  across  the  meadow. 

"Herman!  Herman!  Do  you  see?"  I  whis 
pered. 

He  was  sitting  on  the  fallen  tree  next  to  me, 
and  as  I  moved  my  hand  toward  him  in  that 
vague  pang  following  quick  on  the  shock  of 
inexpressible  beauty,  I  felt  his  fingers  cold. 
His  lips  were  open  and  I  saw  his  tongue  move 
to  wet  them,  like  a  man  unconsciously  athirst. 

Beyond  the  clearing,  thick  purplish  trunks 
of  the  redwood  upbore  the  masses  of  foliage 
like  a  cloud.  The  space  between  the  first 
twenty  feet  or  so  of  their  gigantic  columns 
was  choked  with  laurel  and  holly  and  ceano- 
thus,  pierced  by  long  tunnels  that  the  deer  had 
made.  Down  one  of  these  the  two  foremost  of 
the  keepers  plunged  and  were  lost  behind  the 
mask  of  loose,  wild  vines  that  festooned  the 
front  of  the  wood,  lifting  and  falling  in  the 
wind  that  by  mid-morning  began  to  set  sea 
ward  from  the  high  ridges. 

But  the  girl,  some  ten  steps  behind  them, 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  103 

still  in  her  half-seeing  mood,  missed  the  mo 
ment  of  the  out-streaming  of  the  vines, 
checked  and  faltered.  The  wind  caught  her 
dress  and  wrapped  her  in  it,  the  drapery  of 
vines  swung  out  and  caught  her  hair.  Before 
the  other  keepers  could  come  up  with  her,  the 
long  arm  of  Ravenutzi  reached  out  from  his 
point  of  vantage  on  a  heavy,  slanting  trunk 
and  gathered  up  the  offending  vines,  holding 
them  high  and  guardedly  until  the  girl  could 
pass.  The  detention  was  slight,  but  long 
enough  for  the  annoyance  of  it  to  have  pierced 
her  abstraction  before  he  let  the  curtain  fall 
almost  on  the  heads  of  the  hurrying  keepers, 
long  enough  for  her  to  have  looked  up  at 
Ravenutzi  and  accord  to  him  the  first  con 
scious  recognition  of  her  solemn  passage. 
Whatever  flattery  there  might  have  been  in 
that,  it  could  not  draw  so  much  as  a  back 
ward  glance  from  him.  With  the  swish  of 
the  long  vines  flung  back  upon  the  wall  of 
boughs,  he  sprang  forward  from  his  perch, 
and  as  if  that  action  had  been  the  signal,  drew 
with  him  a  ring  of  staring  faces  toward  the 
grassy  spit  by  which  the  trail  entered  the 
meadow. 

The  music,  which  during  the  ritual  had 


104  OUTLAND 

melted  into  the  undertone  of  forest  sounds, 
emerged  again  more  pointedly  human  and 
appealing.  It  summoned  from  the  bluish 
glooms  an  interest  so  personal  and  touching 
that  it  drew  the  Outliers  from  the  shy  wildness 
of  their  ways.  The  ring  of  watchers  surged 
forward  a  step,  the  music  rose  like  a  sigh  of 
expectation  and  ushered  in  a  group  of  women 
who,  without  any  order  or  solemnity,  but  with 
a  great  and  serious  kindness,  supported  a 
young  woman  in  their  midst.  It  was  she  who 
had  been  the  Ward  and  was  now  to  receive 
forgetfulness. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  Trastevera,  upon  whose 
arm  she  leaned,  I  understood  that  these  were 
the  former  Wards,  come  to  afford  her  such 
comfort  as  their  experience  justified.  It  was 
not  until  I  saw  her  mother  hurry  forward  cry 
ing:  "Daria!  Daria!"  that  I  began  to  realize 
what  need  of  comfort  there  must  be.  Evarra 
beside  me  stirred  the  Cup.  Its  faint  aromatic 
odor  was  of  a  cold  and  sickly  dread,  reflected 
from  Daria's  widened  eyes  on  some  secret  sur 
face  of  myself. 

She  was  a  pretty  girl,  warm-tinted,  eyes  of 
a  wet  gray,  the  broad  brow  and  sensitive  short 
lip  of  women  whose  happiness  centers  in  ap- 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD          105 

proval.  It  was  easy  to  read  in  her  face  that 
of  all  the  restrictions  of  her  Wardship  the  one 
against  loving  had  been  hardliest  borne;  plain 
to  be  seen  now  in  the  way  she  clung  to  her 
mother,  who  took  the  face  between  her  hands, 
that  of  all  the  forfeitures  that  lay  in  the  blue 
flower  of  forgetfulness,  that  one  of  loving  was 
most  difficult  to  pay. 

"O  mother,  mother,"  she  said,  "I  cannot 
bear  it!" 

She  shuddered  sick,  looking  on  all  she  had 
lived  among  and  knowing  that  she  might 
never  know  them  again  with  that  one  of  her- 
selves  which  stood  hesitating  between  the 
meadow  and  the  wood.  There  was  not  one  of 
all  those  trails,  if  she  set  foot  in  it  to-morrow, 
that  she  would  know  where  it  went  or  what 
she  might  meet  in  it.  She  was  to  die  in  effect, 
to  leave  life  and  memory,  to  wake  mutilated 
in  the  midst  of  full-blooded  womanhood,  with 
out  childhood,  girlhood,  parents,  intimates. 

"O  mother,"  she  said,  "I  cannot  bear  it!" 

She  clung  crying  to  her  mother's  hand, 
while  the  other  women  crowded  comfort  upon 
her. 

"Indeed,  Daria,"  one  assured  her,  "but  I 
knew  my  mother.  There  were  four  others 


106  OUTLAND 

with  me  when  I  woke,  but  I  knew  her.  I  did 
not  know  what  she  was  to  me,  nor  any  name 
to  call  her,  but  my  heart  chose  her  from 
among  the  rest,  and  I  held  out  my  arms." 

They  said  many  more  things  to  this  purport, 
while  the  girl  turned  her  face  to  her  mother's 
bosom  as  though  she  admitted  all  this,  but  it 
did  not  touch  her  case. 

Then  her  father,  coming  forward,  distressed 
for  her,  but  somewhat  more  concerned  for 
the  situation,  taking  her  by  the  shoulders,  re 
called  her  to  herself. 

"Daughter,"  he  said,  "have  you  carried  the 
honor  of  the  Outliers  so  many  years  to  fail 
us  at  the  last?  How  do  you  make  life  worth 
remembering  with  broken  faith?  And  who 
will  respect  you  if  you  respect  not  your 
word?" 

She  cleared  a  little  at  that  and  recovered,  so 
that  she  was  able  to  go  through  with  some  dig 
nity  the  farewells  which  the  elders  now  came 
forward  to  bestow  with  fixed  cheerfulness. 
Then  came  her  young  companions,  saying, 
"We  have  nothing  ill  to  remember  of  you, 
Daria,"  and  "Good-waking,  Daria."  She 
broke  out  again,  desperate  rather  than  de 
spairing. 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD          107 

"Do  not  say  so  to  me,  I  shall  not  drink  it!" 

"Shall  not?"  It  was  Persilope  taking  the 
Cup  from  Evarra,  and  moving  forward  as  he 
spoke.  "It  is  a  word  that  has  never  been  heard 
before  from  a  Ward." 

Quick  red  leaped  in  Dana's  face,  which  she 
turned  this  way  and  that,  searching  the 
meadow  for  some  prop  to  her  determination. 
It  seemed  that  she  found  it,  though  there  was 
nothing  I  could  read  there  but  commiseration 
and  disapproval. 

"Shall  not,"  she  breathed;  and  then  quite 
low,  sweeping  his  countenance  once  with  her 
glance,  and  then  fixing  it  steadily  on  the 
ground.  "She  did  not  drink  it." 

The  emphasis  was  slight,  slighter  than  the 
flicker  of  her  eyes  toward  Trastevera,  but  the 
impact  of  her  meaning  drove  the  chief's  wife 
from  her.  One  scarcely  saw  Trastevera  move, 
but  there  was  now  a  rift  between  the  two 
women,  which  widened  with  the  shocked  per 
ception  in  the  listening  circle.  Persilope's  re 
covery  was  instant,  some  sternness  with  it. 

"What  had  been  done,"  he  said,  "was  done 
by  all  the  Council  with  good  reason.  But  what 
reason  is  here  beyond  a  girl's  protesting 
fancy?" 


io8  OUTLAND 

Again  Daria's  mutinous  eyes  searched  the 
meadow,  and  her  resistance  rose  visibly  in  ad 
vance  of  its  support. 

"Reason  enough!"  The  group  of  young 
persons  at  the  foot  of  the  circle  turned  upon 
itself,  and  released  the  figure  of  a  young  man 
about  thirty,  tall  and  personable. 

"I  have  reason" — his  voice  shook,  as  though 
the  words  had  been  too  long  repressed  in  him 
and  escaped  bubblingly — "the  best  of  reasons, 
for  I  ...  we  love  .  .  ." 

He  had  hesitated  an  instant  over  the  admis 
sion,  wanting  some  quick  assurance  which 
flashed  between  the  girl  and  him.  Instantly 
it  brought  from  the  women,  in  whose  care  and 
keeping  she  had  chiefly  been,  quick  cries  of 
protest  and  denial,  falling  almost  on  the  stroke 
of  his  declaration. 

"But  you" — Persilope  voiced  the  general 
knowledge — "you  have  been  these  three  years 
at  River  Ward,  you  have  not  seen  her." 

"Not  for  three  years,"  admitted  the  lover, 
"for  as  soon  as  I  knew  that  I  loved  her  I  went 
away,  that  I  might  keep  her  honor  and  mine." 
His  thought  worked  uneasily,  but  he  went  on. 
"I  have  always  loved  her,  but  I  had  not  told 
her  so  when  it  came  my  turn  to  serve  with 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  109 

Mancha,  and  while  I  was  away  you  chose  her 
to  be  the  Ward.  I  went  back  and  served  my 
time.  When  I  returned  to  Deep  Fern  I  saw 
her  walking  with  the  women  in  the  cool  of 
the  morning  and  knew  that  I  loved  her.  That 
was  the  year  the  water  came  down  from  Water 
Gate  and  tore  up  the  valley.  In  the  flood  I 
carried  her " 

He  smiled;  the  inexpressible  joyousness  of 
the  woodlander  broke  upward  in  the  remem 
brance. 

"The  next  day,"  he  said,  "she  sent  me  word 
to  go  back  to  River  Ward,  and  I  knew  by 
that  that  she  loved  me.  So  I  went,  and  by 
the  evidence  of  the  work  I  have  done  you 
know  how  I  have  loved  her." 

"By  the  evidence  of  the  faith  I  have  kept," 
said  Daria,  "you  know  how  I  have  loved  him." 

All  this  time  I  could  see  the  faces  of  the 
men,  especially  of  the  giiTs  father  and  of  Pras- 
sade,  growing  sterner.  Trastevera  looked 
down,  studying  the  pattern  of  the  meadow 
grass.  Persilope  bit  his  lip  in  the  midst,  with 
the  Cup  in  his  hand,  and  the  lover  grew 
bolder. 

"Is  love  so  cheap  a  thing  to  you,  Persilope, 
that  you  take  it  from  us  before  we  have  tasted 


no  OUTLAND 

it?  It  is  Daria  I  love  as  she  is,  as  I  have  seen 
her  grow  from  a  child  into  a  woman,  not  a 
stranger,  looking  at  me  with  unremembering 
eyes.  Let  the  men  take  up  the  Treasure  and 
bury  it  again,  as  they  did  for  Trastevera." 

"There  was  a  reason,"  the  chief  began,  and 
stopped,  as  if  he  knew  that  to  argue  was  to 
lose. 

"Oh,  a  reason—  I  do  not  know  by  what 

imperceptible  degrees  and  mutual  consentings 
the  lovers  had  got  across  the  open  space  to 
each  other,  but  there  they  were,  hand-fast, 
confronting  him.  "Reason  you  thought  you 
had,  but  what  good  came  of  all  your  reasons 
seeing  that  Trastevera  has  lost  the  Far-Seeing 
for  the  sake  of  which  she  was  excused  from 
the  Cup.  Let  them  bury  the  Treasure  again 
—or  give  it  to  the  Far-Folk,  for  all  I  care, 
since  nothing  comes  of  it  but  wars  and  forget- 
tings." 

He  caught  the  girl  to  him  fiercely  as  he 
spoke,  irritated  by  the  hardening  of  the  elders' 
minds  against  that  very  touch  of  wildness  and 
rebellion  by  which  he  urged  the  disregard  of 
custom.  Whatever  advantage  he  had  with 
Persilope  because  of  the  precedent,  he  had  lost 
by  the  hint  of  its  insufficiency. 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD  in 

"If,"  said  the  chief,  holding  the  bowl  before 
him,  "there  had  arisen  any  occasion,  which  I 
do  not  allow:  if  there  had  arisen  such  an  occa 
sion  for  doubting  the  wisdom  of  our  former 
breach,  it  would  be  greater  cause  for  our  not 
admitting  it  now.  Do  you  propose" — fore 
stalling  the  rising  thought — "to  bring  it  to 
Council?  Look  around  you  and  see  that  we 
who  make  the  Council  are  already  agreed." 
The  eyes  of  the  young  couple  traveled  about 
the  group,  they  saw  regret,  but  no  relenting. 

"If  she  forgets  you,"  said  the  chief  more 
kindly,  "she  forgets  also  the  pain  of  her  for 
getting,  and  you  shall  teach  her  to  love  again." 

"Girl,"  said  her  father,  "if  you  shame  me 
there  is  no  forgetfulness  deep  enough  for 
that." 

I  suppose  that  the  mere  acknowledgment 
of  their  love  had  eased  the  tension  of  dread, 
had  waked,  perhaps,  that  foolish  human  cer 
tainty  of  passion  to  survive  the  loss  even  of  its 
own  identity.  Perhaps  they  had  never  had 
any  real  hope  of  avoiding  the  issue;  insensibly, 
too,  as  the  matter  had  increased  in  gravity, 
the  young  listeners  had  melted  from  the  circle, 
leaving  a  ring  of  older,  sterner  faces,  before 


ii2  OUTLAND 

which  they  felt  their  resolution  fail.    We  saw 
the  girl  turn  piteously  in  her  lover's  arms. 
"You,"  she  said,  "at  least  will  not  forget 


me." 


"I  will  not  forget." 

"See,"  Persilope  smiled  faintly,  and  shak 
ing  a  little  of  the  pale  green  liquid  from  the 
bowl,  "I  have  made  it  light  for  you." 

The  girl  kept  her  eyes  on  the  young  man. 
"And  I  am  yours,"  she  urged ;  "whether  or  not 
I  remember,  I  am  yours." 

"Knowing  or  unknowing,"  the  young  lover 
assured,  "I  call  these  to  witness  that  you  are 


mine." 


Daria  put  out  her  hand  and  took  the  bowl 
from  Persilope,  but  her  lover  put  his  hand 
upon  it  over  hers,  holding  it  back  until  he 
charged  her  soul  again. 

She  lifted  the  Cup  and  shuddered  as  she 
drank;  once  she  faltered,  but  he  pressed  it 
firmly  to  her  lips.  No  one  moved  in  the  lis 
tening  circle.  The  wind  was  busy  with  the 
forest  boughs;  we  saw  the  redwoods  bend  and 
the  curdling  of  the  water  at  the  falls.  We  saw 
Daria's  head  bowing  on  its  slender  stalk,  like 
the  wild  white  columbine  which  the  wind 
shook  behind  her. 


THE  LOVE-LEFT  WARD          113 

"You  will  remember,"  still  her  lover 
warned  her. 

"I  will  remember." 

She  drooped,  all  her  body  lax  with  sleep, 
but  still  he  propped  her  on  his  bosom.  Her 
mother  took  up  the  girl's  flaccid  hand  in  hers 
and  fondled  it  softly;  she  did  not  urge  her 
claim. 

"Daria,  Daria,"  pleaded  the  lover,  "say  you 
will  remember." 

She  could  not  answer  now  except  by  the 
turning  of  her  head  upon  his  bosom;  color, 
drained  away  by  the  drug,  forsook  her,  the 
lips  were  open  and  a  little  drawn.  He  would 
have  gathered  her  up  then,  but  a  motion  from 
the  elders  stayed  him. 

"Remember,  oh  remember,"  he  called  upon 
her  soul,  and  the  soul  struggled  to  reassure 
him,  but  it  lay  too  deep  under  Forgetfulness. 
With  a  shudder  she  seemed  almost  to  cease  to 
breathe.  Evarra,  stepping  softly,  lifted  the 
relaxed  lids  and  showed  the  eyes  rolled  up 
ward,  the  pupils  widened.  She  made  a  sign 
at  which  the  circle  parted  and  made  way  for 
the  youth  down  the  green  aisles  through  which 
he  bore  her  to  his  house. 


VI 


IN  WHICH  I  AM  UNHAPPY  AND  MEET  A  TALL 
WOMAN   IN  THE  WOOD 

WHEN    the    vines    dropped    back 
from  Ravenutzi's  hand  upon  the 
wall   of   boughs   through  which 
the     Ward     and     her     Keepers 
passed,  it  was  as  if  the  step  that  carried  them 
out  of  sight  of  the  Outliers  had  also  carried 
them   out  of  knowledge.     Not  an  eye   that 
any  other  eye  could  discover,  nor  any  inquir 
ing     word     strayed     upon     their     vanished 
trail.    In  the  three  days  before  they  returned 
to  the  Meet,  or  it  was  proper  to  mention  them, 
they  would  have  visited  the  King's  Desire,  and 
Zirriloe  would  be  informed  of  everything  per 
tinent  to  that  connection. 

During  these  three  days  no  Outlier  con 
cerned  himself  with  their  whereabouts  lest 
he  should  be  thought  to  have  some  concern 
about  the  Treasure.  With  the  exception  of 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     115 

Noche,  I  believe  no  Outlier  had  even  so  much 
as  curiosity  about  it.  It  had  been  so  long  since 
any  man  had  seen  it,  that  until  Noche's  ac 
count  of  what  the  cache  contained  began  to 
be  current,  I  think  they  had  not  any  clear  idea 
what  the  Treasure  might  consist  in.  It  was 
something  that  the  Far-Folk  wanted  and  the 
Outliers  did  not  mean  they  should  get.  The 
struggle  kept  alive  in  them  tribal  integrity  and 
the  relish  for  supremacy. 

The  practice  of  not  speaking  of  the  Treas 
ure  during  the  three  days'  absence  of  the 
Ward,  had  taken  on  a  rigidity  of  custom  which 
Herman  and  I  did  not  feel  ourselves  bound 
to  observe.  We  could  talk  of, the  Treasure 
and  of  Zirriloe,  and  we  did  that  same  morn 
ing. 

When  the  shadows  were  gathered  close  un 
der  the  forest  border,  and  even  to  our  accus 
tomed  eyes  there  was  no  sign  of  the  Outliers, 
other  than  the  subdued  sense  of  gladsome  life 
spread  on  the  pleasant  air,  I  found  a  place 
I  knew.  There  the  creek  went  close  about  the 
roots  of  the  pine  between  shallow  sandy  shoals, 
and  there  Herman  came  to  talk  to  me  of  the 
Love-Left  Ward.  As  he  sat  there  at  my  feet 
pitching  stones  into  the  shallows,  that  efful- 


n6  OUTLAND 

gence  of  personality  which  had  streamed  from 
him  at  the  opening  of  that  day,  and  now  suf 
fused  his  manner  with  an  unaccustomed 
warmth,  lay  quite  beyond  my  reach. 

Some  of  the  dread  with  which  Daria  had 
met  the  obliteration  of  memory  and  identity, 
moved  me  to  draw  from  Herman  an  assurance 
that  nothing  could  quite  wipe  out  from  him 
all  recollection  of  the  fellowship  and  the  good 
times  we  had  had  together.  It  began  to  ap 
pear  an  alarming  contingency  that  I  should 
be  turned  out  at  any  moment  in  a  strange  coun 
try  to  find  my  way  back  to  life  in  company 
with  a  man  I  did  not  know  and  whose  dispo 
sition  toward  me  was  still  to  be  learned.  It 
would  have  become  Herman  to  be  very  nice 
to  me  at  this  juncture,  and  while  I  sat  feeling 
blankly  for  the  communicating  thread,  he  be 
gan  to  talk  of  the  Ward. 

"Some  of  the  women  should  have  gone  with 
her,"  he  said;  "somebody  interested  in  her. 
It's  all  stiff  chaparral  from  here  to  the  ridge. 
The  girl  will  never  stand  it." 

"You  don't  really  know  where  they  have 
gone,"  I  hinted,  "and  Daria  doesn't  seem  to 
have  suffered." 

"Oh,  Daria!    But  this  girl  needs  looking 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     117 

after.  You  can  see  that  it  means  a  lot  to  her, 
losing — everything.  She  would  have  appre 
ciated — things.  That  string  of  red  berries  now 
— she  would  have  done  justice  to  rubies." 

"The  great  necklace  of  red  stones?  Well, 
she  probably  knows  where  they  are  by  this 
time." 

"A  lot  better  use  for  them  than  keeping 
them  in  a  hole  in  the  ground,"  Herman  in 
sisted,  "especially  when  it  costs  the  youth  of 
a  girl  like  that  to  keep  them  there." 

"I  know  at  least  one  Outlier  who  will  agree 
with  you." 

"Who,  then?" 

"Mancha." 

"Did  he  say  that?  What  makes  you  think 
so?" 

I  have  often  wondered  why  having  gone  so 
far  I  did  not  go  further  and  tell  Herman 
frankly  what  I  thought  I  had  discovered  of 
Mancha's  state  of  mind.  I  have  wondered 
oftener,  if  I  had  spoken  then,  if  anything 
would  have  come  of  it  different  or  less  griev 
ous  than  what  did  come.  Whatever  pre 
vented  me,  I  answered  only  that  he  seemed 
to  me  a  man  less  bound  by  custom  and  super- 


n8  OUTLAND 

stition  than  his  fellows,  and  Herman  agreed 
with  me. 

"But  I  can  tell  you,"  he  said,  "that  Zirriloe 
wouldn't  hear  of  it.  You  can  just  see  how 
her  whole  soul  is  bound  up  in  the  keeping  of 
her  vows.  She  could  be  true  as  death  to — any 
body."  He  went  on  to  say  how  he  derived  this 
assurance  from  the  way  the  sun-touched  color 
of  her  cheek  spread  into  the  whiteness  of  her 
neck,  and  from  the  blueness  of  the  vein  that 
ran  along  her  wrist,  and  her  springy  walk.  He 
ran  on  in  this  fashion  taking  my  agreement 
very  much  for  granted.  What  I  really  had 
thought  was  that  in  spite  of  her  beauty  and 
wraptness,  the  girl  had  rather  a  shallow  face 
and  would  be  as  likely  to  be  as  much  engrossed 
and  as  sure  of  herself  in  any  other  circum 
stances.  And  I  was  so  much  disappointed  at 
Herman's  extraordinary  failure  of  perception 
that  I  could  not  allow  myself  to  say  anything 
about  it.  I  felt  that  a  personal  note  must  un 
reasonably  attach  to  any  woman's  attempt  to 
show  that  a  more  beautiful  one  is  not  necessa 
rily  a  woman  of  more  personal  fineness.  I  was 
so  irritated  with  myself  for  being  irritated 
that  I  was  glad  to  hear  Evarra  calling  down 
by  the  willows,  and  to  leave  Herman  pitching 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     119 

pebbles  into  the  shallows.  Though  it  turned 
out  that  Evarra  was  asleep  under  a  madrono 
and  nobody  had  called  me. 

During  those  three  days  while  the  Ward 
and  the  keepers  were  away,  there  was  a  great 
deal  going  on  in  the  fenced  meadows  and  by 
Deer  Lake  and  at  the  bottom  of  deep  wells  of 
shade  in  the  damp  canons.  It  was  a  broken, 
flying  festival,  no  two  events  of  which  took 
place  successively  in  the  same  quarter,  for  the 
Outliers  wished  not  to  occupy  ground  long 
enough  to  leave  upon  it  any  mark  of  use  by 
which  House-Folk  might  suspect  their  pres 
ence.  The  great  events  of  the  Meet  went  on 
in  so  many  places  that  nobody  ever  saw  the 
whole  of  them.  That  was  why  I  had  no  more 
talk  with  Herman  and  saw  him  but  once  or 
twice  until  Zirriloe  came  back  again.  I  heard 
of  him,  though,  and  that  in  a  manner  and  mat 
ter  that  surprised  me  very  much. 

The  morning  of  the  second  day  I  went  up 
with  the  girls  to  race  in  Leaping  Water.  We 
left  the  Middle  Basin  by  a  trail  that  took  the 
side  of  the  hill  abruptly  and  brought  us  out 
at  the  foot  of  the  second  fall,  above  the  long 
white  torrent  of  the  Reach.  They  meant  to 
come  down  with  the  stream  to  the  meadow 


120  OUTLAND 

again,  and  the  game  went  to  the  one  who  was 
least  out  of  water  in  that  passage.  I  followed 
the  windings  of  the  creek  as  near  as  the  under 
growth  allowed  and  heard  their  laughter,  now 
louder  and  now  less  than  the  water  noises,  and 
saw  between  the  trees  the  flash  of  foam  change 
to  the  glancing  of  white  limbs,  and  the  flicker 
of  the  sun  on  fair  bodies  as  they  drifted 
through  the  shallows.  They  took  the  falls  feet 
foremost,  curving  to  its  flying  arch,  white  arms 
wreathed  backwards  and  wet  hair  blowing 
with  the  spray.  The  swimmers  so  mixed  them 
selves  with  the  movement  of  the  water  and  the 
well-sunned,  spacious  day,  that  they  seemed  no 
more  apart  from  it  than  the  rush  of  the  creek 
or  the  flicker  of  light  on  leaf  surfaces  dis 
placed  by  the  wind.  They  were  no  more  ob 
trusive  than  that  mysterious  sense  of  presence 
out  of  which  men  derive  gods  and  the  innu 
merable  fairy  host. 

I  had  walked  thus  in  that  awakened  recog 
nition  of  sentience  in  the  wild,  in  which  all 
Outland  had  become  a  dream  which  hunts 
along  the  drowsy  edge  of  sleep.  I  had  con 
tinued  in  it  for  perhaps  half  an  hour,  in  such 
a  state  that  though  I  had  no  idea  where  we 
were  on  the  map,  I  believe  I  could  have  set 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     121 

out  suddenly  in  the  right  quarter  for  home.  I 
had  not  heard  my  name  pronounced,  but  I 
began  to  be  aware  within  myself  that  some 
one  had  called.  I  was  so  sure  of  it  that, 
though  I  had  no  intimation  yet  of  any  pres 
ence,  I  began  to  look  about.  After  a  little 
trouble  I  made  out  Trastevera  on  the  opposite 
bank,  between  the  willows,  making  signs  that 
she  wished  to  speak  to  me,  and  yet  enjoining 
silence.  The  creek  widened  here  and  the  girls 
were  coming  down,  following  like  trout.  I 
saw  her  press  back  among  the  swinging  boughs 
as  they  went  by,  and  guessed  that  something 
more  than  the  ordinary  occasion  of  the  day 
was  astir.  Presently,  when  we  heard  from  be 
low  the  splash  of  laughter  as  the  swimmers 
struck  the  rapids,  she  came  across  to  me. 

"Where  were  you  yesterday  when  Daria 
took  the  Cup?"  she  asked  immediately. 

"By  Fallen  Tree,  not  twenty  steps  from  you 
— but  you  were  so  taken  up  with  that  affair 
that  you  did  not  see  me." 

"You  heard,  then,  what  her  young  man 
said  about" — she  flushed  sensitively — "his  rea 
sons  for  her  not  drinking.  Have  you  heard 
anything  of  that  in  the  Meet?" 

"Nothing  that  need  disquiet  you." 


122  OUTLAND 

This  was  not  strictly  true,  for  Evarra  had 
told  me  that  all  those  who  had  opposed  Tras- 
tevera's  exemption  ten  years  before  were  now 
justifying  themselves  in  Daria's  rebellion. 

"They  are  saying  what  I  feared,"  she  said, 
"that  it  is  a  mistake  to  release  the  possessor 
of  gifts  from  the  common  obligation." 

"They  are  wrong,  then,  for  nothing  has 
come  of  it  but  the  momentary  outburst  of  a 
sensitive  spirit.  After  all,  Daria  fulfilled  her 


vows." 


She  looked  at  me  curiously  for  a  moment, 
as  if  she  were  not  sure  what  to  make  of  me. 
We  were  walking  up  and  down  behind  the 
trees,  her  dress  a-flutter,  her  small  hands  clasp 
ing  and  unclasping,  her  body  rippling  with 
the  expressive  accompaniment  of  excitement 
which  was  as  natural  to  her  as  the  unstrained 
stillness  of  repose. 

"Do  you  not  think  it  wrong,"  she  said, 
"when  the  findings  of  the  Council  are  scorned, 
and  I — even  I — make  secret  occasion  to  talk 
of  forbidden  things?" 

She  wheeled  upon  me  suddenly: 

"And  this  plan  which  is  hatched  between 
your  man  and  Mancha,  perhaps  you  see  no 
wrong  in  that?" 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     123 

She  was  too  guileless  herself  to  have  taken 
that  method  on  purpose,  but  I  felt  my  spirit 
curling  like  a  dried  leaf  out  of  all  proportion 
to  her  news.  I  managed  to  answer  steadily. 

"He  is  not  my  man."  It  did  not  occur  to 
me  until  afterward  that  it  would  have  been 
a  surer  form  of  denial  not  to  acknowledge  so 
readily  what  man.  "And  as  for  any  plans  he 
may  have  with  Mancha  or  any  other,  I  do  not 
know  what  they  are.  Nor  would  I  be  inter 
ested  except  that  I  see  it  troubles  you." 

All  the  time  I  was  resenting  unreasonably 
that  Herman  should  have  any  plans  with  any 
body  and  not  broach  them  first  to  me. 

"I  do  not  know  very  well  what  it  is  my 
self,"  she  said  more  quietly,  "except  that  it 
grows  out  of  this  unhappy  episode  of  Daria's. 
It  must  refer  to  the  Wardship,  because  it  is 
rumored  about  that  the  Meet,  instead  of  break 
ing  up  on  the  evening  when  the  keepers  come 
back,  will  hold  over  another  day  for  Council. 
That  must  be  because  they  wish  to  talk  of 
matters  that  may  not  be  opened  earlier.  It  is 
Mancha,  I  think,  who  washes  it.  When  some 
of  the  elders  reproved  Daria's  lover  for  hav 
ing  allowed  himself  to  love  a  Ward,  and  for 
speaking  so  lightly  of  the  Keeping,  Mancha 


i24  OUTLAND 

said  that  a  man  could  not  help  where  his  heart 
went,  and  that  there  was  too  much  truth  in 
what  the  young  man  said.  Myself,  I  cannot 
account  for  it." 

"I  can,"  I  said,  "and  though  you  might  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  question  me,  I  at  least  may 
tell  you  that  it  has  to  do  with  the  Ward.  He 
is  in  love  with  her."  And  I  told  her  all  that 
I  had  seen  or  surmised. 

"And  your  friend?" 

"Not  knowing  what  his  plan  is,  I  cannot 
give  his  reasons." 

"Ah!"  she  said  for  all  answer,  and  we 
walked  on  without  saying  anything  further 
until  I  asked  her  what  had  become  of  Daria. 

"Gone  on  her  wedding  month;  they  went 
away  this  morning  as  soon  as  she  was  fully 
recovered,  having  seen  no  one.  They  went  out 
by  Singing  Ford.  And  even  in  that,"  she 
added,  "there  is  something  to  criticize,  for 
it  is  not  customary  for  any  one  to  go  away 
from  the  Meet  while  the  Keepers  are  abroad. 
Oh,"  she  cried,  striking  suddenly  upon  her 
breast,  "it  is  through  me,  through  me,  that 
all  this  breaking  of  custom  comes." 

"Why  do  you  care  so  much?    All  customs 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD 
pass  and  in  the  end  are  replaced  by  better 


ones." 


"If  that  is  not  so,"  she  said,  "if  it  is  not  so, 
Daria's  lover  was  right." 

She  walked  a  little  from  me  and  bit  her 
hands,  as  though  she  would  have  eaten  down 
the  mortification  of  one  who  sees  harm  come 
through  what  is  best  in  him.  Having  recov 
ered  herself  a  little  came  to  ask  me  when  I 
had  last  seen  Ravenutzi,  and  if  I  had  observed 
anything  unusual  in  him.  I  had  not,  and  natu 
rally  wished  to  know  if  she  had. 

"The  shadow,"  she  said,  "the  long  shadow." 

"Has  it  come  again?" 

"It  lies  at  his  feet,  it  stretches  behind  him 
and  blots  out  the  good  day,  it  runs  before  him 
and  covers  the  Outliers  when  they  sit  happy 
and  at  ease.  Oh,  I  am  weary  because  of  it, 
and  yet  I  can  find  no  fault  with  him.  During 
the  last  three  days,  which  must  have  tried  him, 
he  has  been  most  discreet.  But  did  you  think" 
— she  turned  to  me — "when  he  broke  in  upon 
the  singing  to  provoke  debate,  that  he  meant 
to  turn  the  talk  to  some  other  meaning  than  it 
had?" 

"I  thought  so." 

"Then  I  am  sure  of  it.    Listen,"  she  said; 


126  OUTLAND 

"if  this  is  true  what  you  tell  me  about  Mancha, 
I  shall  have  enough  to  watch,  for  the  greatest 
danger  will  be  when  the  Ward  comes  home 
again." 

"Why  then?" 

"She  will  have  been  six  months  away  from 
her  friends,  she  will  be  tired  in  body  and  the 
glow  of  the  ceremonial  will  be  gone,  her  heart 
will  turn  toward  her  family,  and  the  secret 
will  weigh  upon  her.  Then,  if  ever,  she  will 
need  counsel  and  support — when  she  comes 
back — when  she  first  comes."  She  said  the 
words  over  to  herself.  "Mancha  I  can  trust 
as  far  as  I  can  trust  any  man  in  love;  but  the 
girl — I  will  say  no  more  of  her  than  that  she 
is  much  like  other  girls.  I  shall  be  busy  there. 
Ravenutzi  I  cannot  watch,  he  disturbs  me  too 
much.  Do  you  see  as  much  of  him  as  possible 
and  bring  me  word." 

There  being  no  reason  why  I  should  not, 
I  promised  readily,  and  so  concluded  the  in 
terview. 

I  was  anxious  though  to  see  Herman  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  sent  Lianth  that  evening  to 
ask  him  to  come  to  the  middle  meadow  when 
the  stars  came  out  in  the  blue  above  the  dim, 
receding  ranges.  But  he  did  not  come,  though 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     127 

I  walked  there  a  long  time  and  saw  the  dark 
well  out  of  the  canons.  I  felt  the  night 
scents  begin  to  stir  with  the  little  winds,  and 
the  tall  sequoias  bend  their  tops  and  talk  to 
gether,  and  my  heart  cracked  with  expectancy 
with  every  snapped  twig  and  rustling  of  wild 
things  going  down  to  drink.  I  shouldn't  have 
minded  his  not  coming  if  he  had  anything  else 
to  do,  but  I  minded  being  kept  waiting  for 
him.  I  minded  it  still  more  the  next  morning 
when  I  met  him  at  Fallen  Tree  and  he  said, 
quite  as  if  he  had  not  thought  of  it  until  that 
time: 

"Oh,  by  the  way — I  was  down  at  the  Hol 
low  last  night  with  Mancha  and  some  of  the 
others.  Was  it  anything  particular  you  wanted 
to  say  to  me?" 

Well,  of  course,  I  had  supposed  it  was 
rather  particular  when  I  had  given  him  such 
an  opportunity  to  tell  me  all  about  his  plan 
and  get  forgiven  for  not  telling  it  before.  I 
had  meant  to  warn  him  that  Trastevera,  and 
so,  of  course,  Persilope,  had  reason  to  distrust 
his  mixing  himself  too  much  in  the  affairs  of 
Outland.  But  of  course  if  he  didn't  see  it 
that  way  himself  there  was  no  occasion  for 
me  to  be  concerned  about  it.  So  I  said: 


128  OUTLAND 

"No,  nothing  particular." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "when  this  affair  is  all 
over" — just  as  if  it  were  in  any  wise  his  af 
fair — "we  must  get  together  and  have  a  good 
talk  somewhere."  And  though  it  was  mid- 
morning  and  there  was  nothing  whatever  to 
do  if  he  wished  to  talk,  he  went  off  up  the 
creek,  and  that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him  un 
til  evening. 

Directly  after  noon  I  took  Lianth  with  me 
and  went  out  toward  the  Leap  and  then  up 
the  bank  of  a  tributary  rill,  and  so  into  a  part 
of  the  wood  where  the  Outliers  did  not  much 
frequent.  Lianth,  who  was  a  great  talker, 
grew  more  and  more  quiet  as  my  replies  were 
more  absent,  and  the  way  grew  steeper.  We 
could  see  the  ground  rising  in  front  of  us 
through  the  trees,  and  hear  the  noise  of  the 
creek  falling  far  behind. 

The  boy  was  walking  very  close  to  me,  and 
there  was  a  shy  color  coming  in  his  cheek; 
he  glanced  right  and  left  under  his  half  long 
lashes  and  came  very  close. 

"Well,  isn't  she?"  he  said.  "Isn't  she  as 
beautiful  as  I  said — you  know  who?" 

"Zirriloe?" 

"Well,  isn't  she?" 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     129 

"Lianth,"  said  I,  "if  you  think  I  have 
brought  you  out  here  to  give  you  a  chance  to 
talk  about  forbidden  things,  you  are  mistaken. 
I  came  because  I  wished  to  be  alone.  I'm  go 
ing  a  little  farther  among  the  trees,  and  don't 
you  come  until  I  call  you." 

He  was  helping  me  up  over  a  broken  ledge 
as  I  spoke,  and  stopped  there  looking  at  me 
irresolutely. 

"You  aren't  going  to  try  and  run  away,  are 
you?  You  look  as  though  you  were — from 
something." 

"Only  from  you.  You  can  give  the  call,  and 
if  I  don't  answer  you  can  come  to  look  for 


me." 


I  had  learned  already  many  of  the  Outland 
methods  of  communicating  by  forest  notes 
rather  than  trust  to  the  betraying,  high- 
pitched  human  voice.  None  of  these  was  of 
more  use  to  me  than  the  call  for  refuge.  If 
any  Outlier  wished  to  be  private  in  his  place, 
he  raised  that  call,  which  all  who  were  within 
hearing  answered.  Then  whoever  was  on  his 
way  from  that  placed  hurried,  and  whoever 
was  coming  toward  it  stayed  where  he  was  un 
til  he  had  permission  to  move  on.  Though 
Lianth  was  somewhat  taken  aback  at  my  de- 


130  OUTLAND 

mand,  I  knew  I  should  have  some  little  space 
unmolested. 

I  climbed  on  between  great  roots  of  pines 
where  the  litter  lay  in  hummocks  between  the 
tracks  of  winter  torrents,  and  Lianth  had 
called  twice  before  I  bethought  myself  to  an 
swer  him  and  claim  a  longer  time.  I  lay 
down  at  last  in  a  place  where  the  scrub  was  a 
screen  to  me,  and  before  I  understood  what 
had  happened,  the  laboring  breath  of  my 
climbing  had  burst  into  thick,  choking  sobs. 
I  lay  face  down  on  the  pine  litter  and  was 
most  terribly  shaken  with  the  grief  of  some 
dumb,  wounded  thing  in  me  that  did  not  know 
its  hurt,  but  wrenched  and  cried  a  long  time 
unrelievingly.  It  was  so  new  a  thing  for  me 
to  cry  and  so  strange,  that  though  I  knew  this 
was  what  I  had  come  there  for,  I  did  not 
know  why  I  was  torn  so  almost  to  the  dividing 
of  soul  and  spirit.  The  crying  lasted  a  long 
time,  and  I  was  so  exhausted  by  it  that  it  was 
only  by  faint  degrees  I  became  aware  of  eyes 
upon  me.  I  roused  up  hastily,  afraid  lest  in 
the  violence  of  my  grief  I  had  failed  to  an 
swer  some  inquiry  of  Lianth's  and  he  had 
come  to  find  me. 

Instead,  I  met  the  curious,  commiserating 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     131 

eyes  of  a  woman  fixed  on  me  through  the  leaf 
age  of  the  scrub.  As  soon  as  she  perceived 
that  I  saw  her  she  parted  the  brush  and  came 
through,  holding  it  still  in  her  hands  behind 
her,  as  though  it  were  a  door  of  exit  to  be 
kept  open.  I  saw  at  once  by  her  figure,  which 
was  slight  and  tall,  by  her  dark  hair  and  by 
her  dress,  that  she  was  not  one  of  the  Outliers. 
Over  her  tunic  she  had  wound  a  long  cloak 
of  dark  stuff,  concealing  her  limbs,  and  over 
that  bound  vines  and  wreathed  the  leaves  in 
her  hair,  for  adornment  or  concealment.  As 
she  stood  in  the  shadow  there  was  little  to  be 
discerned  of  her  but  the  thin  oval  of  her  face 
and  the  long  throat  clasped  by  linked  silver 
ornaments  finely  wrought. 

"You  are  not  of  the  Outliers?"  she  ques 
tioned,  though  I  felt  she  was  already  sure  of 
the  fact. 

"I  am  their  prisoner." 

I  thought  she  seemed  pleased  at  that,  more 
pleased  if,  with  a  swift  searching  of  my 
swollen  eyes,  I  could  have  answered  yes  to  her 
next  question. 

"They  do  not  treat  you  well?  But  no" — 
answering  herself — "it  is  not  so  that  captives 
cry.  What  is  your  name?" 


132  OUTLAND 

"Mona." 

She  said  it  over  two  or  three  times  to  fix 
it  in  her  memory;  and  then,  caution  and  cu 
riosity  struggling  in  her: 

"You  have  just  come  from  them?  You 
know  them?" 

"Yes." 

"Do  you" — I  could  see  the  pulse  of  her  long 
throat  and  the  bushes  shake  behind  with  her 
agitation — "do  you  know  Ravenutzi?" 

"I  know  him." 

"Is  he  well?  How  does  he  look?  Is  he 
happy?"  Impossible  to  conceal  now  what  the 
question  meant  to  her. 

"He  is  well.  As  to  his  looks — sometimes  he 
looks  younger,  sometimes  older.  His  hair,  I 
think,  is  not  so  gray." 

"Not  so  gray?" 

"I  think  he  dyes  it."  I  do  not  know  why 
I  should  have  said  this,  except  as  I  saw  that 
no  detail  of  him  was  too  small  to  seem  trivial 
to  her. 

"Oh!"  she  said,  startled,  looking  at  me 
queerly.  "Oh!"  she  gave  a  short  laugh,  "you 
think  he  dyes  it.  Is  he  happy?" 

I  considered. 

"You  are  one  of  the  Far-Folk,  I  believe, 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     133 

and  though  I  am  prisoner,  the  Outliers  have 
been  friends  to  me.  I  am  not  sure  I  ought  to 
answer  you." 

She  let  go  of  the  bushes  and  came  a  step 
nearer  in  her  anxiety. 

"As  you  are  a  woman  who  has  wept  in 
secret,  and  by  the  hurt  which  brought  your 
tears,"  she  said,  "only  tell  me  if  he  is  well  and 
happy.  Surely  that  cannot  touch  your  honor." 

"I  have  already  said  he  is  well.  He  has 
the  vigor  of  a  young  man.  As  for  happiness 
—he  says  very  little,  and  that  not  of  himself. 
At  least  he  is  not  openly  unhappy." 

"Tell  me,"  she  urged,  "if  you  could  im 
agine  that  in  his  own  land  he  is  well  loved, 
that  there  is  one  there  who  lives  in  him, 
dreams  of  him,  counts  the  hours;  could  you 
say  that  he  found  the  time  of  his  hostage  heavy 
because  of  her?" 

"He  is  thoughtful  at  times,  and  walks  by 
himself.  Otherwise  I  could  not  judge.  I  have 
not  loved  myself." 

For  answer  she  let  her  eyes  wander  point 
edly  over  my  disfigured  face  and  fallen  hair. 

"Tell  me  again,"  she  said  after  an  interval. 
"This  girl  who  is  the  Ward,  is  she  very  beau 
tiful?" 


134  OUTLAND 

"Very;"  but  not  so  beautiful  as  you,  I 
thought,  for  there  was  in  the  vivid  red  of  her 
fine  lips,  in  the  purple  of  her  eyes  and  the 
delicate  tragic  arch  of  her  brows,  in  the  long 
throat  and  bosom,  all  that  fire  and  motion  of 
passion  which  the  Ward's  face  hinted  at  elu- 
sively.  I  was  casting  about  for  a  way  of  say 
ing  this  to  her  not  too  boldly  when  I  was  ad 
vised  by  the  tapping  of  her  foot  on  the  needles 
that  she  would  not  be  turned  from  her  in 
quiry. 

"And  Ravenutzi,  is  he  interested  in  her? 
Is  he  much  about  her?  Does  she  care  for 
him?" 

"She  is  the  Ward,"  I  said,  "she  may  not 
think  of  men;  and  besides,  she  is  only  a  girl, 
her  thought  would  hardly  turn  to  a  white 
head." 

"True,  true" — she  pinched  her  lip  with 
thumb  and  forefinger — "I  had  forgotten;  as 
you  say,  he  is  a  very  old  man.  No  doubt  he 
might  be  judged  old  enough  to  have  speech 
with  her." 

I,  not  seeing  fit  to  reply  to  that,  rose  and 
stood  looking  at  her,  very  curious  on  my  own 
account,  but  knowing  very  well  that  I  should 
get  nothing  from  her  except  what  pleased  her. 


I  MEET  A  WOMAN  IN  THE  WOOD     135 

"Shall  I  tell  him  you  inquired  for  him?" 
I  wished  politely  to  know,  and  was  startled  at 
her  whiteness. 

"Ah,  no,  no!  Do  not  tell  him — tell  no  one 
lest  he  hear  of  it;  he  would  be  very  angry,  he 
would—  — "  She  recovered  herself.  "Rav- 
enutzi  is  very  honorable.  He  would  not  wish 
to  break  the  terms  of  his  hostage,  which  are 
that  he  should  not  communicate  with  the  Far- 
Folk  for  three  years.  It  is  a  long  time,"  she 
said  piteously. 

"A  long  time." 

"Then,"  she  said,  "if  you  could  understand 
how  I — how  his  friends  would  wish  to  assure 
themselves  that  he  is  well,  you  can  see  that  we 
would  not  wish  him  disturbed  by  knowing 
how  much  he  is  missed." 

"I  understand  very  well." 

"Then" — relieved — "you  will  perhaps  tell 
no  one  that  you  have  seen  me.  And  if  I  could 
come  so  near  again — I  could  not  have  man 
aged  it  except  that  they  are  all  busy  at  their 
Meet — if  I  could  let  you  know,  you  would 
not  deny  me?" 

I  suppose  the  exhaustion  of  long  sobbing 
had  left  me  in  a  yielding  mood.  I  saw  no 
harm  in  satisfying  her  anxiety,  and  said  so, 


136  OUTLAND 

though  I  added  that  I  might  not  be  long  my 
self  among  the  Outliers. 

"If  you  are  there  I  will  find  a  way  to  let 
you  know,"  she  assured  me,  and  with  that  she 
threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  the  waiting 
wood,  which  received  and  seemed  to  snatch 
her  from  my  view. 


VII 

HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA 

ON  the  third  day,  when  the  shadows 
were  all  out  full  length  in  the  up 
per  basin,  the  sun  blinking  palely 
from  behind  a  film  of  evening  gray, 
the  Maiden  Ward  came  back.    Some  children 
paddling  for  trout  in  the  soddy  runnels  saw 
her  come  and  ran  crying  the  news  among  the 
evening  fires.    Hearing  it  the  women  all  ran 
together    distractedly,    declaring    that    there 
could  be  no  proper  welcome  with  no  men 
about.    This,  I  thought,  was  very  quickly  no 
ted  by  the  girl,  glancing  this  way  and  that, 
losing  a  little  of  the  high  carriage  and  manner 
as  she  saw  how  few  observed  it. 

The  girl  was  white,  her  eyes  strained  wide 
in  dark  circles  of  fatigue.  Streakings  of  her 
fair  body  showed  through  the  torn  dress.  I 
saw  her  check  and  stumble,  putting  out  her 
hands  blindly,  overburdened  by  her  hair. 

137 


138  OUTLAND 

Remembering  what  importance  Trastevera 
had  attached  to  this  returning,  I  looked  about 
for  her,  ready  to  serve  or  see.  Before  I  could 
reach  her,  up  came  Ravenutzi  from  his  pot  of 
coals  and  anvil  of  flint  stone  down  where  the 
rush  of  the  cascade  covered  the  tinkle  of  his 
hammers.  I  could  not  help  noting  the  like 
ness  between  him  and  Trastevera  as  he  came, 
putting  off  his  smith's  apron  ready  to  her  use 
like  a  proffered  tool.  Some  nods,  I  think,  a 
gesture  or  two  of  Trastevera's,  were  all  that 
passed  between  them.  Some  essential  male- 
ness  leapt  up  in  him  at  the  motions  of  those 
small  talking  hands,  and  took  command  of  the 
situation.  I  found  myself  running  with  the 
women  at  his  word  to  spread  skins  for  the 
Ward  to  rest  upon,  and  ordering  the  children 
in  two  lines  to  some  show  of  ceremonial  wel 
come.  There  were  some  young  brothers  of 
hers  in  that  band,  and  as  she  kissed  them  heart 
ily  I  saw  tears  stealing,  and  realized  how 
young  she  was  and  how  hard  a  thing  she  had 
undertaken.  She  stood  with  a  palm  behind 
her  flat  against  a  pine  for  support,  overtired 
and  wanting  her  mother,  no  doubt,  who  was 
not  allowed  to  come  to  her.  Finally  the 
women  took  her  away  to  rest. 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     139 

In  all  this  I  had  never  seen  Ravenutzi  show 
to  so  great  advantage.  When  we  were  quite 
alone  Trastevera  put  out  her  hand  to  him  as 
she  did  not  often  in  the  presence  of  Outliers. 

"Kinsman,"  she  said,  and  it  was  the  first 
time  I  had  heard  her  call  him  that,  "I  owe 
you  thanks  for  this." 

She  meant  more  than  that  he  had  contrived 
some  warmth  for  what  must  otherwise  have 
seemed  to  Zirriloe  a  cold  returning.  She  was 
thankful  that  it  had  been  his  wrinkles  and 
streaked  grayness  to  meet  the  Ward  rather 
than  the  hot  eyes  and  shining  curls  of  Mancha. 

"I  do  not  know  how  it  is,"  said  she,  "I  never 
pitied  myself  for  being  the  Ward,  but  some 
how  this  pink  girl  seems  to  need  to  be  pitied." 

"Any  bond,"  said  Ravenutzi,  "will  wear  at 
times,"  and  said  it  with  a  wistful  back-stroke 
of  self-commiseration  that  caused  me  to  think 
swiftly  of  several  things.  I  reflected  that  in 
his  own  place  among  the  Far-Folk  he  must 
have  been  more  of  a  man  than  the  Outliers 
conceded  to  any  smith.  Next,  that  the  condi 
tion  of  tame  cat,  which  his  hostageship  in 
curred,  pressed  more  heavily  on  him  than  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  thinking.  Also  I  thought 
of  the  tall  woman,  but  I  did  not  deliver  the 


140  GOTLAND 

comforting  reassurance  about  her  which  came 
readily  to  my  tongue.  There  was  so  intimate 
and  personal  a  quality  in  his  brief  surrender 
to  our  sympathy  that  it  made  the  mention  of 
another  woman  an  intrusion.  It  began  to  seem 
likely  that  she  could  not  be  so  much  to  him  as 
he  to  her.  That  would  account  both  for  her 
anxiety  not  to  have  him  know  of  her  inquiry, 
and  for  his  not  having  mentioned  her  to  Tras- 
tevera. 

We  continued  walking  up  and  down  under 
the  linked  pines,  without  many  words,  but  with 
a  community  of  understanding,  which  led 
later  to  Trastevera's  opening  to  him  more  of 
her  anxieties  than  she  realized.  In  the  course 
of  an  hour  or  two  the  women  brought  the 
Ward  back  again,  and  made  her  a  little  enter 
tainment  of  compliments  and  songs.  There 
was  a  hard,  bright  moon  in  a  pale  ring,  and 
the  breath  of  the  young  year  stealing  through 
the  forest. 

Prassade  sang,  and  Evarra's  man  and  old 
Noche.  The  women  sang  all  together,  rock 
ing,  as  they  sat,  but  Ravenutzi  sang  the  most 
and  most  movingly.  Mancha  sang  nothing; 
sat  off  fondling  his  weapon,  and  drank  the 
girl's  looks.  She  was  very  lovely,  had  got  back 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     141 

a  little  of  her  saint's  separateness  which  be 
came  her,  and  the  conscious  support  of  being 
admired.  If  she  had  looked  at  him,  she  might 
have  seen  his  heart  swimming  under  his  gaze, 
but  I  could  not  see  that  she  did.  What  favor 
she  was  disposed  to  show  went  to  Ravenutzi, 
praising  his  songs  and  affecting  to  be  affected. 
I  thought  she  built  too  much  on  the  mere  in 
cident  of  his  having  been  the  only  one  of  the 
men  to  meet  her.  It  was  a  mere  accident  grow 
ing  out  of  the  nature  of  his  work,  but  it  was 
natural,  perhaps,  to  have  rewarded  him  for 
it.  The  women  took  her  away  early,  and 
nothing  whatever  had  happened. 

The  next  day,  which  ordinarily  would  have 
seen  the  parting  of  the  Meet,  occurred  the 
Council,  which  broke  up  in  some  disorder, 
without  having  accomplished  anything.  Very 
early  a  blind  fog  came  nosing  up  from  the 
sea,  cutting  between  the  round-backed  hills, 
shouldering  them  like  a  herd-dog  among 
sheep.  It  threaded  unsuspected  canons,  and 
threw  up  great  combs  of  tall,  raking  trees 
against  its  crawling  flanks.  It  gripped  the 
peaks,  spreading  skyward,  whirling  upon  it 
self  in  a  dry,  ghostly  torrent.  The  chill  that 
came  with  the  fog  drove  us  down  toward  Deep 


i42  OUTLAND 

Fern,  to  a  sun-warmed  hollow  defended  by 
jutty  horns  of  the  country  rock.  Shed  leaves 
crackled  under  us,  the  wind  and  fog  were 
stayed  by  the  tall  pines  at  our  backs,  the  sun 
warmed  whitely  through  the  hurrying  mist. 

Evarra  and  some  others  of  the  women  were 
there,  Zirriloe  and  the  two  keepers  beginning 
their  daily  turns,  and  Ravenutzi,  sitting  with 
his  long  knees  drawn  up  under  his  clasped 
hands.  Somewhere  out  of  sight  the  men  were 
holding  council  on  a  matter  they  had  not  seen 
fit  to  speak  to  us  about.  We  had  scarcely  set 
tled  ourselves  on  the  warm  leaf-drift  when 
one  of  them  came  to  the  head  of  the  Hollow 
and  shouted  for  Noche.  There  were  so  many 
of  us  about,  the  old  man  could  have  safely 
left  the  Ward  but  it  seemed  to  him  scarcely 
courtesy  to  do  so  with  her  Wardship  yet  so 
new.  He  glanced  around  through  the  smother 
of  the  fog  and  found  not  another  man  who 
could  be  spared  to  that  duty.  Ravenutzi,  with 
his  chin  upon  his  knees,  and  his  velvety  opaque 
eyes  looked  idly  at  nothing,  but  was  aware  of 
the  old  man's  difficulty.  Noche  clapped  him 
heavily  on  the  shoulder. 

"Hey,  smith,"  he  said,  "will  you  take  a 
watch  for  me?  I  am  wanted." 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     143 

At  this  the  man  who  leaned  to  us  dimly 
from  the  rim  of  the  Hollow  gave  a  grunt. 

"What,"  he  said,  "will  you  set  the  Far- 
Folk  to  watch  a  Ward?  These  are  gentle 
times." 

"Why,  he  is  as  gray  as  I  am,  and  twice  as 
wrinkled,"  answered  Noche,  mightily  discon 
certed.  "Would  you  have  him  come  to  the 
Council  instead?" 

The  other  laughed  shortly. 

"No,  not  to  the  Council,  though  I  dare 
say  it  will  come  to  that  yet." 

He  released  the  young  tree  upon  which  he 
leaned,  which  sprang  back  with  a  crackling 
sound.  From  his  silence  Noche  drew  consent 
to  his  half-jesting  proposal  and,  smiling  em- 
barrassedly,  like  a  chidden  child,  swung  his 
great  body  up  by  the  trunk  of  a  leaning  oak 
and  disappeared  behind  the  smoky  fog.  By 
such  intimations  we  knew  there  was  some 
thing  going  forward  among  the  men,  but  we 
did  not  know  how  much  of  this  the  Ward, 
who  was  most  involved  by  it,  surmised.  She 
might  have  guessed  from  our  not  referring  to 
these  mysterious  comings  and  goings  that  it 
concerned  the  keeping  of  the  Treasure.  She 
grew  uneasy,  started  at  sounds,  would  have 


144  OUTLAND 

Trastevera  hold  her  hand,  was  in  need  of 
stroking  and  reassuring. 

The  fog  increased,  hurrying  and  turning 
upon  itself.  Runnels  of  cooler  air  began  to 
pour  through  it,  curling  back  the  parted  films 
against  the  trees.  Now  and  then  one  of  these 
air-streams,  deflected  by  the  rim  of  the  Hol 
low,  would  rush  up  its  outer  slope,  blowing 
leaves  and  dust  like  a  fountain,  and,  subsid 
ing,  leave  us  more  sensible  of  warmth  and 
ease,  in  the  thick  leaf  litter  below  the  oaks. 

Ravenutzi  came  over  to  Trastevera,  who  sat 
holding  the  Ward's  hand,  and  stretched  him 
self  at  her  feet,  smiling  up  at  her  his  fawn's 
smile.  He  held  up  his  hand  between  him  and 
the  pale  smear  of  sunlight  with  one  of  those 
slight,  meaningful  gestures  so  natural  to  him 
that  it  served  as  a  more  delicate  sort  of  speech : 
"Surely  it  seemed  to  say,  to-day  not  even  I  can 
cast  a  shadow?" 

Trastevera,  like  one  too  deep  in  thought  to 
rise  to  the  surface  of  words,  smiled  back.  Not 
finding  himself  in  disfavor,  Ravenutzi  ven 
tured  a  little  more  to  lure  her  from  disturbing 
meditation.  He  turned  upon  his  side,  leaning 
on  his  elbow,  and  began  to  sing.  His  voice 
was  mellow  and  of  a  carrying  quality,  with  a 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     145 

tang  in  it  like  the  taste  of  the  honey-comb  in 
wild  honey.  Some  half-governed  energy  of 
passion  kept  it  under  his  breath  as  the  warm 
earth  was  held  under  the  smother  of  the  fog. 
It  was  a  song  of  the  Far-Folk,  I  know,  for 
there  were  some  words  in  it  not  common  to 
the  Outliers,  but  it  had  their  method  of  carry 
ing  the  mood  in  the  movement  and  the  mind 
of  the  singer,  rather  than  in  the  words. 

"  'Oh,  a  long  time/ 
it  said, 

'Hav^e    I    been    gathering    lilies    in    the    dawn-dim 

woodland. 
'Oh,  long— long!'" 

and  ran  on  into  a  sound  like  the  indrawing  of 
breath  before  tears,  and  began  again: 

"Scented  and  sweet  is  the  house 
And  the  door  swings  outward, 
It  is  made  fair  with  lilies: 
But  there  are  no  fetet  on  the  trail  to  the  house 
And  the  door  swings  outward. 
Long,  O  long,  have  I  been  gathering  lilies." 


146  OUTLAND 

Just  that,  three  times  over;  and  the  first  time 
of  the  singing  it  was  a  girl  wreathing  herself 
with  flowers  and  looking  down  the  trail,  sure 
of  her  lover  but  sighing  for  his  delay.  Then  it 
was  the  tall  woman  I  had  met  in  the  wood, 
keeping  her  empty  house  with  fierce  loyalty 
through  the  years  of  his  hostage. 

v  "Long,  oh  long,  have  I  been  gathering  lilies!" 

Finally  it  was  a  heart  made  fair  with  un 
requited  tendernesses,  singing  to  itself  through 
all  the  unimpassioned  years.  Strangely  it  was 
I  singing  that  song  and  walking  through  it  in 
a  bewildered  mist  of  pain. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  it  was  after  Raven- 
utzi  ceased  before  I  could  separate  myself 
from  the  throbbing  of  the  song.  I  was  re 
called  sharply  by  the  wish  to  comfort  Zirriloe, 
whose  young  egotism,  suffering  perhaps  in  the 
withdrawal  of  attention  from  herself,  had 
startled  us  all  by  turning  her  face  on  Traste- 
vera's  shoulder  and  bursting  into  tears.  It 
was  pure  hysteria,  I  thought,  but  she  was  so 
very  pretty  in  it.  There  was  such  appeal  of 
childishness  in  the  red,  curling  lip,  the  trem 
bling  of  her  delicate  bosom,  that  I  was  drawn 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     147 

in  spite  of  myself  into  the  general  conspiracy 
to  restore  her  to  the  balance  of  cheerfulness. 
Ravenutzi,  realizing  that  his  song  was  in  a 
manner  to  blame,  was  so  embarrassed  in  his 
dismay  and  so  wistful  of  our  good  opinion, 
that  the  girl  was  obliged  to  come  out  of  her 
tears  to  reassure  him.  He,  to  requite  the  for 
giveness,  began  to  be  at  once  so  gay  and  charm 
ing  in  his  talk  that  in  a  very  little  time  we 
had  returned  to  that  even  breathing  lightness 
of  mood  which  was  the  habit  of  the  Outliers. 
Content  welled  out  of  the  earth  and  over 
flowed  us  like  some  quiet  tide,  disturbed  only 
as  some  sharp  jet  of  human  emotion  sprang 
up  fountain-wise  momentarily  beyond  the 
level,  and  dropped  back  again  to  vital,  pulsing 
peace. 

We  had  no  more  disturbances  that  day,  and 
I  felt  that  Trastevera,  much  as  she  was  con 
cerned  about  the  Council,  could  only  have 
been  thankful  for  so  commonplace  an  occa 
sion.  We  were  both  glad  that  the  quick-blood 
ed  Mancha  had  business,  which  kept  him  out 
of  the  way  until  the  Ward  had  recovered  a 
little  from  the  self-consciousness  of  her  situa 
tion.  When  about  three  hours  had  gone  over 
us,  Persilope  came  stooping  under  the  hanging 


148  OUTLAND 

boughs,  gave  us  Good  Friending  somewhat 
briefly,  and  took  his  wife  away  with  him. 
From  time  to  time  after  that,  one  or  another 
woman  slipped  away,  answering  some  call  of 
her  mate  out  of  the  mist.  When  we  heard  the 
fluttering  shriek  of  a  hawk  given  rapidly 
twice,  and  again  impatiently,  without  space 
for  replying  we  all  laughed. 

"That  is  your  man,  Evarra!  One  would 
think  the  woods  were  a-fire!" 

Evarra  blushed. 

"Assuredly,  he  would  set  them  a-fire  when 
he  is  in  that  state  if  he  did  not  find  me."  She 
made  a  sign  to  me.  "Come,"  she  said;  "now 
we  shall  hear  what  it  is  all  about." 

The  Council,  so  Evarra's  husband  told  us, 
was  not  the  immediate  outcome  of  the  inci 
dents  of  the  Meet.  Matter  for  it  had  been 
growing  these  ten  years  past,  ever  since  the 
unearthing  and  reburial  of  the  Treasure  had 
been  undertaken  on  Trastevera's  account.  It 
had  been  so  long  since  they  had  any  feeling 
of  its  reality,  except  as  the  point  on  which 
their  honor  hung!  But  after  Noche  had  seen 
the  Treasure,  the  craftsman's  soul  of  him  was 
forever  busy  with  the  wonders  of  it,  brooding 
on  the  fire  of  its  jewels  as  a  young  man  on  the 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     149 

beam  of  a  maiden  eye.  All  the  children  who 
had  come  to  maturity  these  ten  years  past  had 
been  nourished  on  the  Treasure  tale,  livened 
and  pointed  by  Noche's  account.  With  the 
advent  of  the  hostage,  interest  in  the  King's 
Desire  as  a  possession  had  rather  increased 
through  the  awakened  appreciation  of  smith's 
work  among  them.  Ravenutzi  had  made  cu 
rious  ornaments  for  the  women  of  bits  of 
metal  found  in  deserted  summer  camps,  the 
patterns  of  which  reproduced,  so  far  as  the 
Far-Folk  remembered  them,  the  wrought  gold 
of  the  King's  jewels. 

Both  the  items  which  were  responsible 
for  this  liveliness  of  curiosity — the  exemp 
tion  of  Trastevera  and  consequent  reburial 
of  the  Treasure,  and  the  acceptance  of  the 
hostage — had  been  strongly  opposed  by  part 
of  the  Council.  Now  they  thought  themselves 
justified  by  the  turn  of  events.  They  thought 
further  that  the  incident  of  Daria  and  her 
lover  called  loudly  for  measures  which  should 
stem  this  current  of  departure  from  old  usage. 
A  Ward  had  been  released  from  her  obliga 
tion  of  forgetfulness;  another  had  ventured  to 
plead  for  it.  A  young  man  had  loved  a  Ward 
and  dared  to  avow  it  during  the  term  of  her 


150  GOTLAND 

Wardship.  Here  was  one  of  the  Far-Folk 
teaching  smitheying  to  the  Outliers.  Here 
were  House-Folk  going  about  among  them 
talking  of  forbidden  things.  Matter  enough 
for  Council  if  ever  Council  was.  More  dis 
concerting,  here  was  Mancha,  Ward  of  the 
Outer  Borders,  Mancha  of  the  Hammerers, 
who  had  opposed  the  hostage  and  stood  for 
the  inviolateness  of  obligation,  come  out  sud 
denly  as  the  leader,  the  precipitator,  of  revolt. 
Evarra's  man  fumed  over  this  and  the  prob 
able  reason  for  it.  Upon  which  point,  though 
I  was  at  no  loss  myself,  I  did  not  see  fit  to  en 
lighten  him. 

The  Council  had  begun  soberly  in  the  con 
sideration  as  to  whether  some  formal  penalty 
should  be  visited  on  the  Ward  who  had  dared 
to  love,  and  the  man  who  had  ventured  to 
love  her.  It  had  been  disrupted  widely  by 
the  question,  which  seemed  to  spring  up  si 
multaneously  among  the  younger  men,  as  to 
why  there  should  be  a  Ward  at  all. 

It  was  the  nature  and  the  exquisite  charm 
of  the  life  of  Outland  that  it  could  not  carry 
superfluous  baggage  either  of  custom  or  equip 
ment.  Question  as  to  the  continuance  could 
not  have  arisen  had  there  not  run  before  it 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     151 

some  warning  of  dead  weight,  like  the  creak 
ing  of  a  blasted  bough  about  to  fall.  Such 
warning  they  had  in  the  incidents  about  which 
the  Council  was  met.  The  mere  question  was 
not  so  disquieting  as  the  speech  Mancha  made 
upon  it,  a  speech  which,  proceeding  from  an 
impulse  perhaps  not  very  well  defined  in  his 
own  mind,  and  not  guessed  by  his  audience. 
His  private  determination  to  get  Zirriloe  free 
so  that  he  might  make  love  to  her,  was  neither 
very  direct  in  its  process  nor  clear  in  its  con 
clusion. 

Why,  said  Mancha,  waste  the  youth  of  a 
girl,  always  the  chiefest  and  loveliest,  keeping 
a  Treasure  for  which  the  Far- Folk  had  ceased 
to  struggle.  Did  they  not  prefer  pilferings 
of  House-Folk?  Had  they  not  sold  their  best 
man  for  a  free  passage  to  the  Ploughed  Lands? 
Honor,  said  he,  had  been  kept  alive  by  the 
custom  of  the  Maiden  Ward.  But  was  honor 
so  little  among  the  Outliers  that  they  had  to 
buy  it  at  the  price  of  a  girl's  love-time? 

Moreover,  declared  Mancha  of  the  Ham 
merers,  it  was  a  form  of  honor  which  they  did 
not  trust  her  to  keep.  Besides,  keeping  was 
the  business  of  men.  Further,  said  the  Ward 
of  the  Outer  Borders,  not  having  made  it  very 


152  OUTLAND 

clear  where  his  speech  tended  up  to  this  point, 
there  was  a  better  way  of  keeping  the  Treas 
ure  effectively  out  of  reach  of  the  Far-Folk. 
There  was  a  way  costing  them  nothing  of 
which,  since  it  was  new  to  him,  and  he  no 
speech-maker — this  much  was  sufficiently 
clear  at  any  rate — he  begged  leave  to  let  Her 
man  of  the  House-Folk  put  for  him.  This 
was  what  broke  and  scattered  the  Council  like 
a  blast  of  wind  on  burning  leaves.  They  blew 
out  this  way  and  that,  sparking  and  flaring, 
saying  it  was  an  incredible  thing  and  impos 
sible  that  the  House-Folk  should  come  to 
Council,  or,  coming,  should  have  anything  to 
say  worth  hearing.  Some  blamed  Mancha 
and  some  the  occasion.  Some  there  were  who 
laughed,  unbound  their  slings  and  went  hunt 
ing.  Said  they: 

"This  is  mere  child's  talk,  when  you  have 
business  afoot  call  us." 

Others,  deeply  angered  at  the  flouting  of  old 
customs,  went  out  suddenly,  picked  up  their 
women  with  a  sign  and  set  out  without  fare 
wells  for  their  own  places.  Of  these  we  heard 
nothing  again  until  a  greater  occasion  grown 
out  of  that  same  slighted  Council  called  them. 

There  were  many,  however,  and  these  chief- 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     153 

ly  of  the  younger  men,  who  stayed  to  hear 
Herman's  idea,  which  was  as  he  explained  to 
me  a  little  later  at  the  pine  tree  by  the  shal 
lows,  perfectly  feasible.  It  was  nothing  less 
than  that  the  Outliers  should  become,  as  he 
said,  civilized. 

"It  is  quite  impossible,  you  know,  that  they 
should  go  on  living  like  this  indefinitely. 
They  are  practically  cut  off  from  the  sea  al 
ready,  and  every  summer  there  are  more  and 
more  campers.  Think  how  these  hills  would 
be  overrun,  and  with  what  sort  of  people,  if 
we  went  back  to  Fairshore  and  told  what  we 
know  of  the  Treasure?" 

"Well,  we  aren't  going  to  be  allowed  to. 
Do  you  remember  last  summer  how  one  of  a 
hunting  party  in  these  same  hills  wandered 
away  from  his  companions  and  was  found  aft 
erwards,  dazed  and  witless?  He  was  thought 
to  have  had  a  fall  or  something.  But  now  I 
know  that  like  us,  he  stumbled  on  the  Outliers 
and  they  gave  him  the  Cup." 

"That  may  work  very  well  when  they  get 
us  singly,"  Herman  agreed,  "but  a  whole  party 
of  campers  now — the  wonder  is  they  have 
been  exempt  so  long.  Their  trails  go  every 
where." 


i54  OUTLAND 

I  could  have  reminded  Herman  then  of  one 
who  walked  in  their  trails  and  believed  them 
trodden  out  by  deer,  who  caught  them  nearly 
at  their  faggot  gathering  and  thought  only  of 
wood-choppers.  Or  I  might  have  asked  him 
if  even  now  he  could  find  any  Outlier  in  the 
woods  who  did  not  wish  to  be  found.  But  I 
waited  to  hear  the  whole  of  his  idea. 

"They  are  getting  no  good  out  of  their 
Treasure  as  it  is,  and  paying  too  dear  for  its 
keep.  A  girl  like  Zirriloe  ought  to  be  mar 
ried,  you  know  .  .  .  with  all  that  capacity  for 
loving  .  .  .  what  a  wife  she  would  make  .  .  . 
for  ...  anybody."  I  had  not  said  anything 
to  the  contrary,  but  Herman  took  on  an  insist 
ing  tone.  "She  would  pick  up  things,"  he  said, 
"and  her  beauty  would  carry  her  anywhere 

— "  He  broke  off,  staring  into  the  brown 
shallows  as  if  he  were  watching  of  that  beauty 
carrying  her  somewhere  out  of  the  bounds  of 
her  present  life,  and  the  sight  pleased  him. 

"But  your  idea?" 

"Well,  it's  only  that  they  should  take  up 
their  Treasure,  abolish  all  this  business  of  the 
Ward,  and  with  the  proceeds  of  the  jewels 
buy  themselves  a  tract  of  land  in  which  the 
law  could  protect  them  from  the  encroach- 


HERMAN  DEVELOPS  HIS  IDEA     155 

ments  of  House-Folk  and  Far-Folk  alike.  I 
know  a  man  in  the  forestry  bureau  who  would 
be  able  to  tell  me  how  it  could  be  managed." 

He  said  that  with  so  great  an  implied  in 
difference  to  any  objection  I  might  entertain, 
that  I  began  to  feel  a  very  quick  resentment. 
I  began  to  wonder  if  that  old  inclusive  sym 
pathy  had  ever  been  at  all,  if  indeed  it  had 
not  grown,  as  I  felt  this  whole  Outland  ex 
perience  to  have  done,  out  of  my  expectant 
wish  for  it. 

"It  would  mean  so  much  to  us  .  .  .  to  those 
of  us  who  care  about  such  things,"  he  cor 
rected  himself,  as  if  already  a  little  less  sure  of 
me,  "to  have  their  social  system  working  in 
plain  sight.  Their  notions  of  the  common 
good  .  .  .  I've  talked  with  the  men  a  bit  ... 
what  they've  worked  out  without  any  of  our 
encumbrances,  if  they  could  take  it  up  now 
with  all  our  practical  advantages — the  Uni 
versity  might  establish  a  sort  of  protectorate 

But  you  don't  seem  to  care  for  the 

idea,  Mona." 

I  don't  know  what  I  thought  of  the  idea 
as  a  solution  of  the  troubles  of  the  Outliers. 
I  thought  of  a  great  many  practical  objections 


156  OUTLAND 

afterward,  but  just  then  I  knew  what  I 
thought  of  Herman  for  proposing  it. 

They  were  our  Outliers — or  I  might  have 
said  my  Outliers,  for  I  had  imagined  them, 
believed  in  them  and  discovered  them.  It 
was  only  Herman's  interest  in  me  which  had 
brought  him  within  their  borders.  It  was  a 
unique  and  beautiful  experience,  and  it  was 
ours.  We  had  said  that  and  had  felicitated 
ourselves  so  many  times  on  its  being  an  ex 
perience  we  were  having  together.  If  we  for 
got  it  we  must  have  even  our  forgetfulness  in 
common  as  we  had  so  many  things — and  here 
was  Herman  willing  to  throw  it  open  to  the 
world  as  an  experiment  in  sociology.  If  Her 
man  felt  that  way  about  it,  how  was  I  to  claim 
that  exquisite  excluding  community  of  inter 
est  in  which  the  adventure  had  begun! 

"I  daresay,"  I  answered  quickly,  for  I  had 
thought  all  this  while  he  talked  to  me,  "that 
it  is  as  good  as  most  ideas  of  yours,  but  it 
doesn't  interest  me."  And  I  walked  away 
and  left  him  staring  into  the  water. 


VIII 

IN  WHICH  HERMAN'S  IDEA  RECEIVES  A  CHECK 


i 


the  dry  fog  succeeded  showers  and 
intervals  of  super  clearness.  Vast 
blunt-headed  clouds  blundered  un 
der  a  high,  receding  heaven.  Brown 
croisers  of  the  fern  uncurled  from  the  odorous 
earth,  some  subtle  instinct  responded  to  the  in 
cessant  stir  of  sap.  The  Outliers  left  off  de 
bating  to  run  together  flockwise  in  the  recru 
descence  of  the  year.  The  wet  wood  was  full 
of  whispering,  all  hours  of  the  night  feet  went 
by  bearing  laughter,  not  loud  but  chuckling 
and  daring. 

Nevertheless,  the  clearing  of  the  weather 
did  not  scatter  them.  Some  there  were  whose 
affairs  had  called  them  at  the  end  of  the 
Meet.  A  few  had  gone  in  displeasure  at  the 
turn  of  the  Council.  Mancha's  supporters,  and 
they  were  chiefly  the  young  men,  remained 

157 


158  OUTLAND 

in  the  neighborhood  of  Leaping  Water  and 
Deep  Fern,  to  which  we  had  moved  when  the 
rain  began.  Fretted  argument  would  go  on 
where  two  or  three  of  the  men  were  met,  dis 
rupting  suddenly.  There  was  a  sense  of 
expectancy  abroad.  Men  watched  the  Ward 
for  more  than  her  beauty  as  she  went  with  the 
keepers,  in  a  green  gown  like  the  sheath  of  a 
bud,  her  face  a  flower. 

Ravenutzi  got  from  Herman  what  silver 
coins  he  had,  and  smithied  them  into  a  brooch 
for  her;  it  was  rumored  that  you  would  find 
the  twin  of  that  pattern  in  the  King's  Desire. 
Women  grew  curious,  questioned  me  how  the 
House-Folk  lived  and  loved.  They  laughed 
and  looked  sidewise,  but  listened. 

All  this  curious  possibility  of  Herman's 
idea,  and  the  pricking  sense  of  stir  and 
change,  drew  off  attention  from  Mancha's 
passion,  which  burned  up  to  the  betraying 
point.  Trastevera,  who  remained  steadily 
aware  of  his  state,  credited  to  it  mistakenly 
all  her  unease  and  intimations  of  disaster. 
Trouble  ranged  openly  in  the  wood,  but  hid 
its  face.  It  seemed  to  swell  at  times  toward 
betrayal:  I  could  see  small  hair  bristling  on 
the  necks  of  the  men  when  they  had  sat  quietly 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     159 

together,  or  one  would  throw  up  his  head  like 
an  uneasy  hound.  I  think  as  the  newness  of 
Herman's  proposal  began  to  wear  down,  some 
of  them  became  aware  of  Mancha's  state,  but 
said  nothing  lest,  uncovered  too  much  in 
speech,  it  would  burst  the  quicker  into 
scandal. 

He  had  very  little  talk  with  the  girl,  as  lit 
tle  communication  was  allowed,  even  in  com 
pany,  and  Mancha  made  no  special  occasions. 
Anywhere  in  her  trail  you  might  come  upon 
him  mooning  upon  a  flower  she  had  dropped, 
the  bough  she  had  leaned  upon,  the  crumpled 
fern.  He  would  sit  in  the  pleasant  pauses  of 
the  noon,  the  joints  of  his  face  loosened,  his 
gaze  swimming  as  he  looked  at  her,  his  hair 
above  his  face  was  like  pale  fire.  He  was  all 
molten  white  with  passion ;  if  the  girl  breathed 
upon  him  he  would  have  burst  ravening  into 
flame. 

Trastevera  was  afraid  that  the  Ward,  quick, 
for  all  her  simple  seeming,  to  observe  her  ef 
fect  upon  men,  would  become  aware  of  Man- 
cha's  love  for  her  and  kindle  her  imagination 
at  the  vanity  of  this  conquest.  Any  girl  might 
well  have  been  touched  by  the  love  of  a  man 
worth  so  much  as  men  are  accounted  worth. 


160  OUTLAND 

Ravenutzi  knew,  and  managed  to  make  his 
knowledge  seem  to  grow  out  of  his  wish  to 
relieve  the  perturbation  of  Trastevera,  of 
whom  he  was  always  considerately  observant. 

There  was  a  quick  sympathy  of  instinct  be 
tween  those  two  dark  ones,  and  he  served  her 
with  that  fatal  appeal  to  women,  of  sweetness 
struggling  with  some  baser  attribute,  toward 
her  good  opinion.  He  had  the  air  when  in 
her  presence,  and  under  her  approbation,  of 
having  climbed  into  it  out  of  some  native  un- 
worthiness. 

It  was  an  air  calculated  to  make  any  woman 
generous  in  the  bestowal  of  her  company.  By 
degrees  Trastevera  fell  into  the  way  of  letting 
him  serve  her  by  interposing  a  screen  between 
Zirriloe  and  the  Hammerer's  too  unguarded 
gaze.  Often  in  the  still  noons  when  Mancha's 
adoring  mind  burned  through  all  the  drowsy 
silences,  he  would  make  a  diversion,  singing 
or  relating  one  of  his  long  tales. 

For  my  part,  I  was  not  so  sure  either  of 
Mancha's  inarticulateness  or  of  Zirriloe's  un 
consciousness. 

I  have  times  now  of  believing  that  the  girl 
had  observed  him,  and  contrived  ways  to  keep 
our  attention  turned  on  the  possible  chance  of 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     161 

his  passion  coming  to  a  head.  Though  I  can 
not  now  name  any  single  circumstance  that 
points  the  suspicion,  except  as  I  came  finally 
to  believe  her  capable  of  any  duplicity!  I 
remember  how  Lianth  attached  himself  to 
Mancha  with  what  seemed  then  the  natural 
devotion  of  youth  to  a  hero.  Now  this  ap 
pears  as  a  subtle  movement  of  jealousy,  to 
bring  himself  more  to  attention  by  keeping  in 
conspicuous  company. 

The  girl  herself  had  a  trick  lately  of  turn 
ing  her  head ;  little  fluttering,  nesting  move 
ments  as  she  sat,  pretty  pursing  of  the  lips,  as 
of  a  woman  knowing  herself  adored.  She  had 
a  way,  when  left  to  herself,  of  letting  her  work 
fall  in  her  lap,  lips  a  little  apart  and  dreaming 
eyes.  There  was  a  soft  flutter  of  her  young 
breast  like  a  dove's ;  a  woman  owned  adorable. 

There  was  more,  though  it  never  came  to 
the  point  where  I  was  justified  in  speaking  of 
it.  Once  in  the  clear  interval  between  the 
rains,  I  walked  beside  the  tributary  rill  that 
watered  the  meadow  of  Deep  Fern  and  saw 
the  Ward  sitting  close  against  a  bank  clothed 
thick  with  laurel  and  azaleas,  an  impenetrable 
screen.  She  had  been  helping  Noche  and  one 
of  the  women  strip  willows  for  fish-weirs. 


1 62  OUTLAND 

The  two  keepers  were  down  by  the  streamside, 
steeping  the  white  wands  and  turning  them 
in  the  water  in  full  sight  of  her  and  scarcely 
out  of  earshot.  Whatever  Noche  and  the 
woman  might  have  been  saying  was  cut  off  by 
the  frothy  gurgle  of  the  creek.  They  said  it 
to  one  another  without  so  much  as  an  over- 
shoulder  glance  at  Zirriloe.  Yet  there  she  sat 
by  the  laurel  bank,  listening. 

Plainly  she  listened;  with  her  head  turned 
a  little  aside,  the  lips  curling  and  the  lids  half 
drawn  on  the  luminous  dark  eyes.  A  woman 
beguiled  if  ever  there  was  one!  Behind  her 
the  laurel  swayed  slightly  though  there  was  no 
wind.  It  swayed  and  showed  the  light  under 
side  of  leaves,  and  then  was  still  as  I  came 
walking  by  the  waterside  and  Noche  called  to 
me. 

I  had  to  walk  some  distance  down  the  creek 
to  the  stepping-stones  and  across  them  toward 
the  laurel  bank.  Before  I  had  gone  very  far 
on  that  trail  I  met  Ravenutzi  returning  by  it. 
I  had  no  sooner  caught  sight  of  him  than  there 
flashed  up  in  him  that  suffusing  spark  of  per 
sonality,  so  excluding  of  all  other  considera 
tions  that  it  gave  to  our  casual  meeting  the 
appearance  of  a  thing  done  for  its  own  sake. 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     163 

That  was  why  I  did  not  go  on  to  discern  to 
what  or  whom  Zirriloe  had  listened,  but  I 
found  myself  turning  in  the  trail  to  walk  back 
with  him,  quite  as  if,  as  his  manner  assumed, 
I  had  come  out  on  it  expressly  to  meet  him. 
He  began  to  tell  me  at  once,  as  if  that  were  the 
object  of  his  excursion,  that  he  had  not  found 
some  herbs  on  the  high  bank  that  Evarra  had 
sent  him  for,  and  that  he  thought  they  could 
hardly  be  out  of  the  ground  yet. 

"And  did  you  meet  any  one  in  the  wood  as 
you  came  through?"  I  remember  asking,  my 
thoughts  returning  to  the  Ward. 

"Only  Mancha." 

He  gave  me  an  odd,  quick,  sidelong  look 
as  he  spoke,  and  began  to  talk  of  other  things, 
as  if  he  had  seen  more  than  that  and  did  not 
mean  to  tell.  Whether  he  had  kept  the  same 
inviolacy  with  Trastevera,  or  she  herself  had 
seen  something,  the  very  next  day  she  sought 
out  the  Hammerer,  sitting  on  the  burl  of  red 
wood,  nursing  his  hammer  between  his  knees, 
and  taxed  him  with  his  passion  for  the  Ward 
and  its  unworthiness. 

He  admitted  the  fact  but  not  that  it  discred 
ited  him.  He  would  not  remind  Trastevera 


164  OUTLAND 

that  she  had  been  excused  from  part  of  the 
obligation  of  her  Wardship,  but  he  said: 

"Am  I  worth  so  little  to  the  Outliers  that 
they  would  not  excuse  this  girl  to  be  my  wife? 
Ay,  I  want  her,"  he  confessed;  then  as  his 
stout-built  body  thrilled  at  the  thought,  threw 
out  his  arms,  reddening,  and  laughed  shame 
lessly. 

"Do  you  know  the  rocking-stone  on  the  top 
of  the  ledge  by  The  Gap,  that  four  men  can 
barely  stir  on  its  pivot?  I  could  rock  it  into 
the  river  to-day  with  the  strength  of  my  want 
ing." 

"And  what  would  come  in  through  the 
River  Wall  if  you  did?"  said  she;  but  Mancha 
would  not  talk  of  that. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "what  the  years  of 
my  life  are  to  me,  the  years  I  have  gone  mate- 
less?  They  are  the  stops  in  a  pipe  that  plays 
a  tune  to  my  need  of  her.  I  hear  them  piping 
behind  me  and  my  blood  runs  to  the  music." 

"It  shall  play  you  a  ten  years'  measure  yet," 
she  answered  him,  "before  it  pipes  you  your 
desire." 

"Not  ten  moons,"  he  insisted. 

"Then,"  said  she,  "it  will  pipe  death  to  you 
and  to  your  honor." 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     165 

He  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  at  that,  groaned 
and  bit  upon  his  fingers.  At  last: 

"I  thought  I  should  have  had  sympathy 
from  you  who  have  loved  so  well,"  he  said. 

She  could  not  deny  him  the  comfort  he  so 
sorely  needed  on  that  point,  but  neither  could 
she  let  him  go  without  advising  him  what  con 
fusion  must  come  of  his  persistence  in  his  un 
happy  passion.  He  heard  her,  sliding  his 
great  hammer  from  hand  to  hand  as  though  it 
were  the  argument  balancing  this  way  and 
that  in  his  mind. 

"True,  true,"  he  would  admit;  "it  is  all  true 
that  you  say."  And  more  quietly,  as  she  went 
on  with  an  ingenuity  of  entreaty  and  explica 
tion:  "You  are  right,  Trastevera,  you  are  al 
ways  right;"  and  at  last:  "I  thank  you  for 
this,  Trastevera ;  now  I  see  what  I  must  do." 

He  stood  up,  putting  her  aside,  for  she  had 
got  down  on  the  ground  attempting  to  stay  the 
rocking  of  his  hammer  as  she  would  have 
stopped  the  wavering  of  his  mind.  He 
stretched  himself  under  the  redwood  and 
rapped  so  loudly  with  his  weapon  on  the 
trunk  that  the  squirrels  and  nuthatches  in  the 
upper  stories  came  out  to  see,  and  wood  bees 
droned  discontentedly  within. 


1 66  OUTLAND 

"It  is  true  that  she  may  not  be  loved  during 
the  time  of  her  Wardship,"  said  he;  "there 
must  be  an  end  to  that,  or  worse  will  come  of 


it." 


"And  you  will  end  it,  Mancha,  for  your 
honor's  sake?" 

"As  soon  as  may  be;  I  have  dawdled  too 
long.  Where  is  Herman?" 

"With  Persilope  at  Lower  Fern.  What  do 
you  want  of  him?" 

"What  you  wished:  to  put  an  end  to  this 
business  of  the  Ward." 

"Mancha,  Mancha!  That  is  not  what  I 
meant.  You  must  put  an  end  to  your  loving!" 

"Does  loving  end?" 

Trastevera  gave  up. 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"I  will  find  Herman  first."  She  heard 
him  rapping  his  purpose  to  the  fore  on  the 
deep-sounding  trunks  of  trees  as  he  went. 

You  may  guess  how  much  comfort  Traste 
vera  got  out  of  this  interview,  of  which  she 
told  me  very  little  at  this  time,  perhaps  be 
cause  she  had  failed,  and  perhaps  because  of 
an  incident  occurring  about  that  time  which 
put  it  wholly  out  of  mind.  One  of  the  Out 
liers  who  had  set  out  for  home  on  the  breaking 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     167 

up  of  the  Council  had  found  a  suspicious  cir 
cumstance,  and  came  crying  with  it  all  the 
way  up  by  River  Ward  to  Deep  Fern  and  Deer 
Lake  Hollow. 

He  with  his  wife  and  young  brood  passing 
over  Singing  Ford  into  the  district  of  broad- 
headed  oaks,  where  there  was  low  scrub  of 
lupin  and  rhus,  had  met  Daria  setting  snares 
in  the  rabbit  runways.  He  had  sung  out  a 
greeting  to  her,  for  the  moment  forgetting  her 
state  of  forgetfulness,  and  she  had  stood  up  in 
the  knee-high  lupin  with  her  hand  across  her 
eyes,  taken  unawares,  and  called  him  by  his 
name.  It  had  popped  out,  startling  at  sight  of 
him  like  a  rabbit  from  a  burrow.  Then  as  he 
stood  still  with  astonishment  she  checked  and 
stammered,  recalled  the  word,  protested  that 
she  had  mistaken  him  for  another,  and  at  last 
broke  and  fled  crying  through  the  chaparral. 
The  Outlier,  a  just  man  but  a  little  slow,  con 
sidered  the  circumstance,  went  on,  in  fact,  a 
whole  stage  of  his  journey  before  he  arrived  at 
a  conclusion.  Whereupon  he  sent  on  his  fam 
ily  toward  home,  and  came  back  all  the  way 
to  Deep  Fern  with  his  news,  which  had  grown 
upon  him  momentously  as  he  traveled.  Daria 
remembered !  How  much  ? 


1 68  GOTLAND 

Had  the  drink  been  made  too  light  for  her. 
Had  the  tumult  of  her  mind  resisted  sleep. 
Or  had  her  soul  been  so  upborne  by  love  that 
it  floated  clear  of  the  drug  that  drowned  her 
sense? 

No  one  of  the  women  had  been  with  her 
when  she  recovered.  Those  whose  custom  it 
was  to  watch  the  Ward  into  wakefulness  deli 
cately  withdrawing  for  the  lover's  sake. 

"Remember,  oh  remember,"  he  had  insisted 
to  the  last,  and  she  had  remembered  the  name 
and  face  of  a  man  not  in  her  own  district. 
How  then  would  her  memory  stand  toward 
familiar  things? 

This  was  disconcerting  news  indeed.  There 
were  some  who  blamed  Persilope,  who  had 
poured  out  a  portion  of  the  drink.  Others 
blamed  the  women  for  not  staying  by  her. 
Trastevera  blamed  herself,  and  was  torment 
ed  afresh,  seeing  as  a  departure  from  good 
usage  of  which  she  herself  was  source  and 
center.  Mancha  and  Herman  found  it  an 
other  reason  for  pushing  their  idea,  which  the 
Hammerer  by  this  time  openly  avowed.  As 
if  his  admission  of  his  passion  had  in  a  meas 
ure  defined  him  to  himself,  he  had  shaken  off 
the  outward  evidence  of  it,  and  was  occupied 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     169 

chiefly  in  bringing  his  purpose  to  completion. 
He  had  not  spoken  to  Zirriloe  since  his  talk 
with  Trastevera,  sat  no  more  mooning  in  the 
woods,  but  went  about  everywhere  among  the 
young  men  with  Herman  at  his  shoulder, 
making  adherents. 

"But  what  is  your  objection  to  it?"  Herman 
had  asked  of  me,  sitting  under  the  drawn 
flaps  of  Evarra's  hut,  upon  which  the  rain 
drummed  hollowly.  I  had  a  great  many  ob 
jections,  based  upon  my  conviction  that  no 
amount  of  Treasure  would  buy  immunity  for 
the  Outliers  once  they  were  made  known  to 
men.  But  all  my  reasons  would  have  lacked 
their  proper  cogency  with  Herman,  who  was 
like  the  Outliers  in  being  too  honorable  to 
predict  dishonor  on  the  part  of  others.  I 
knew  too  little  of  business  to  forecast  the  hin 
drances  likely  to  fall  in  the  way.  All  I  was 
sure  of  was  that  it  was  a  mistake,  first  and 
last  it  was  bound  to  be  a  mistake,  and  very 
little  progress  of  the  affair  would  prove  it. 

"If  you  think  so  well  of  their  way  of  life," 
said  I,  "why  do  you  wish  to  change  it?  They 
wouldn't  be  happy  in  our  way;  it  wouldn't 
agree  with  them." 

"If  you're  thinking  about  happiness,  how 


1 70  OUTLAND 

about  Daria?  And  Zirriloe;  do  you  call  it 
happiness  to  be  cut  off  from  all  that  belongs 
to  youth  and  loveliness?  Why,  the  girl  was 
made  for  loving." 

"But  I  thought  that  was  something  you 
'didn't  believe  in." 

He  had  the  grace  to  blush  here  and  to  be 
disconcerted,  but  he  protested: 

"They  believe  in  it — and  I — sometimes  I 
think  I  am  only  learning  what  it  is  to  be  alive. 
All  alive,  not  just  the  intellect  of  me,  like 
mistletoe  at  the  top  of  a  tree.  And  it's  good" 
—he  scuffed  with  his  feet  strongly  on  the 
ground  as  though  he  liked  the  sting  of  it — "so 
good  that  I  want  to  make  it  sure."  Before  I 
could  ask  him  what  that  had  to  do  with  mak 
ing  a  sociological  experiment  of  the  Outliers, 
he  had  turned  the  argument  again. 

"Besides,  Mona,"  with  almost  an  injured 
air,  "I'm  thinking  of  you.  We  know  too 
much  ever  to  be  allowed  to  leave  here  in  pos 
session  of  all  our  faculties.  Unless  we  go  in 
some  such  way  as  I  suggest,  as  emissaries  to 
arrange  for  the  title  to  their  lands " 

"Yes,"  I  assented;  "I  hadn't  thought  of 
that.  We  could  go  out  that  way,  and  then  we 
needn't  say  any  more  about  it" 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     171 

"Well,"  he  admitted  doubtfully,  "that 
wasn't  exactly  what  I  had  in  mind.  That 
doesn't  seem  quite — right,  does  it?" 

I  thought  it  would  be  as  right  as  turning 
loose  on  the  Outliers  all  the  ills  of  our  social 
disorder.  But  I  didn't  feel  like  saying  any 
thing  further  just  then.  I  sat  and  watched  the 
sheeted  rain  that  veiled  the  world  a  rod  be 
yond  our  door,  saw  the  sun  break  and  silver  it, 
and  heard  the  wind  calling  from  the  high 
ridges. 

"It  is  either  to  go  back  that  way,"  Herman 
insisted,  "or  stripped  and  unremembering." 

"If  you  were  to  forget  all  you  know  and  had 
to  begin  over  again,"  I  suggested,  "there 
would  be  a  sociological  experiment  for  you." 

"Mona,  you  don't  really  want  to  forget  all 
this?" 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said;  "a  little  forgetting 
is  good  medicine."  And  singularly  I  thought 
of  the  tall  woman  in  the  woods,  and  wondered 
when  I  should  see  her  again,  and  what  she 
would  have  thought  of  Herman's  idea. 

This  was  the  last  of  the  rains,  and  the  very 
morning  of  the  day  when  the  Outlier  from 
beyond  the  Singing  Ford  came  back  with  the 
word  about  Daria.  Messengers  were  sent  to 


172  OUTLAW) 

fetch  her  and  her  husband,  and  all  we  of  Deep 
I'Yrn  went  down  half  a  day  to  meet  them.  The 
messengers  had  found  the  former  Ward  and 
her  young  husband  on  their  way,  drawn  by 
our  wish  and  their  own  willingness.  Love 
had  made  them  subservient,  emptied  them  of 
self. 

The  examination  took  place  in  a  half  hol 
low  full  of  trees.  What  sunlight  there  was 
lay  in  white  patches  like  a  stain.  All  up  the 
green  and  golden  slope  the  women  sat  listen 
ing,  now  discovered  by  the  stirring  of  the 
wind  on  their  loose  garments,  now  disappear 
ing  in  stillness.  Daria  stood  up  among  the 
men  and  answered  faithfully.  It  was  true,  she 
admitted,  that  she  remembered  things.  Some 
things.  She  did  not  know  how  much.  She 
had  just  begun  to  connect  facts  with  the  vague 
sense  of  familiarity.  Questioned,  the  memo 
ries  revealed  themselves  but  sticks  and  straws, 
wreckage  of  experience,  a  name  here,  there  a 
trivial  circumstance,  and  there  a  blank.  All 
of  them  such  images  as  might  have  been  float 
ing  in  her  mind  at  the  time,  or  a  little  before 
she  drank  forget  fulness. 

Did  she  remember  the  place  of  the  Treas 
ure? 


HKRMAN'S  I  OKA   IS  CIIKCKKI)      173 

The  question,  when  it  came,  took  her  fairly. 
She  spun  about,  rocking  her  arms,  burst  into 
dry  sobbing.  Give  her  the  Cup,  she  said,  she 
would  take  the  Cup  again  if  they  wished  it, 
but  let  her  not  be  questioned  any  more.  In  a 
broad  splash  of  sunlight  1  could  see  her 
shiver,  but  not  her  judges;  their  faculty  for 
quiescence  served  them  better  than  speech. 

Did  she  remember? 

How  could  she  say?  She  had  not  remem 
bered  that  there  was  a  treasure  until  her  hus 
band  explained  her  situation  to  her.  And 
then  suddenly  while  he  talked  there  had  come 
into  her  mind  a  place  in  the  hills,  rocks,  pine 
tires,  she  did  not  know  quite  where,  all  the 
rest  of  the  country  cut  off  in  a  mist  like  a 
landscape  in  a  dream.  But  there  was  the  pic 
ture,  young  pines  posturing  for  the  dance,  and 
all  her  attention  centered  on  a  certain  spot.  I  f 
she  happened  upon  that  district  she  thought 
she  could  have  gone  straight  to  that  spot.  She 
broke  off:  begged  them  to  deliver  judgment. 
But  there  were  other  considerations.  Mem 
bers  already  scattered  to  their  homes  must  be 
summoned — there  were  formalities.  The 
meeting  broke  up  quietly.  Daria  moved  over 
and  placed  herself  beside  Zirriloe,  between 


174  OUTLAND 

the  keepers.  Her  husband  did  not  come  to 
her,  nor  she  look  toward  him.  She  was  in 
Ward  again. 

There  was  a  sense  of  urgency  now  on  all  the 
Outliers  that  led  quickly  to  a  final  adjustment. 
Everybody  talked  openly  of  the  King's  Desire 
and  of  Herman's  plan,  of  which  they  had  no 
very  clear  idea,  I  think,  beyond  its  being  a 
more  effectual  way  of  hiding  the  Treasure. 
It  had  also  the  merit  of  keeping  their  district 
clear  of  House-Folk  who  fouled  the  meadows 
and  made  them  unlivable. 

I  sought  out  Trastevera  and  said  what  I 
could,  with  no  success  except  to  augment  her 
uneasiness. 

"This  is  no  doubt  what  I  saw  entering  by 
Broken  Tree  with  you,"  she  said,  "but  now  it 
is  so  close  upon  us  my  opinion  is  no  better  than 
another  woman's,  nor  so  good,  I  think.  I  see 
trouble  coming  from  afar  and  declare  it,  but 
if  I  forget  what  I  have  declared,  I  fall  into  it 
myself." 

I  looked  for  Herman  then  and  found  him 
at  Lower  Fern. 

"So,"  I  said,  "you  are  determined  to  go  on 
with  this?" 

"What  else?"     He   looked   surprised,  and 


HERMAN'S  IDEA  IS  CHECKED     175 

then  reproachful.  "If  you  would  stop  to 
think,  Mona,  what  it  might  mean  to  me,  to  all 
of  us,  to  take  back  to  our  world,  where  as  yet 
we  have  only  theorized  about  it,  news  of  a 
social  order  already  accomplished  where 
every  man's  greatest  benefit  is  the  common 
good " 

"No,"  I  said,  "I  haven't.  What  I'm  think 
ing  about  is  what  we  would  bring  to  the  Out 
liers." 

"Of  course,  if  you  look  at  it  that  way ' 

"And  there  is  something  you  ought  to  think 
of,  and  that  is  if  you  promise  to  buy  land  and 
protection  for  them,  whether  you  have  the 
price.  You  haven't  really  seen  the  Treasure, 
you  know." 

"But— but— Mona,"  he  expostulated,  "it's 
all  been  so  real.  I  never  thought — that  cere 
mony — the  Ward  and  all — of  course  I  haven't 
seen  it " 

"It  may  be  pebbles,"  I  said,  "or  colored 
glass." 

"But  I  thought  you  believed  in  it?  You 
were  the  very  first  to  believe  it." 

That  was  just  like  Herman.  Of  course  I 
believed  in  it. 

I  can  believe  six  impossible  things  before 


176  OUTLAND 

breakfast  if  it  suits  me,  but  Herman  never 
could  be  got  to  understand  the  difference  be 
tween  a  literary  belief  and  a  working  cer 
tainty. 

"At  any  rate,"  I  said,  "before  you  guarantee 
the  price  of  the  King's  Desire,  you  would  best 
have  a  look  at  it." 


IX 


HOW  THE   KING'S  DESIRE  WAS  DUG   UP,   AND 
BY   WHOM 

HOW  Herman  injected  into  the  hot 
plans  of  Mancha  this  cold  doubt 
I  do  not  know.  If  he  accepted  it 
as  a  check  to  his  enterprise  there 
was  no  visible  abatement  of  its  urgency.  He 
was  forever  and  fatiguingly  busy;  crossing 
over  Singing  Ford  and  returning  between  two 
days.  Passing  beyond  Moon  Crest  he  visited 
Alderhold  and  Bent  Bow,  fetching  a  circle 
almost  to  Broken  Tree  to  make  adherents.  He 
was  still  and  hungry  as  to  his  inner  want,  but 
outwardly  as  noisy  as  a  bear,  rapping  the 
trunks  of  hollow  trees  or  prodding  the  soft 
earth  with  his  hammer.  If  in  the  wood  at 
Deep  Fern  or  Deer  Lake  Hollow  he  met  with 
his  young  men,  he  passed  them  without  greet 
ing.  It  is  doubtful  if  he  saw  them.  Plainly- 
the  man  was  ravined  with  desire. 

177 


178  OUTLAND 

All  this  time  he  gave  no  trouble  to  the 
Ward  or  her  keepers.  When  she  went  among 
the  young  fern,  between  the  budding  willows, 
he  did  not  seek  her,  never  talked  of  himself 
in  her  company.  It  was  as  if  the  eye  of  his 
mind,  so  fixed  upon  the  Mate,  passed  over  the 
Maid  she  was.  Otherwise  I  do  not  know  how 
he  could  have  withstood  her,  for  she  went 
flushed  and  glorious.  Trastevera,  I  know, 
had  expected  tears  and  pining.  Watching, 
she  was  relieved  to  find  the  girl  still  sustained 
by  ecstasy,  grew  more  at  ease  and  trusted  Rav- 
enutzi. 

For  the  rest  of  the  Outliers  the  hesitation  of 
Herman's  enterprise  on  the  probable  unworth 
of  the  jewels  proved  no  disappointment.  It 
was,  in  fact,  a  means  of  hurrying  the  move 
ment  for  removing  it  from  its  present  cache. 
They  were  curious  to  discover  if  the  Treasure 
really  had  such  an  intrinsic  value  as  Herman 
had  taken  for  granted.  Even  though  it  proved 
of  no  value  to  the  House-Folk,  it  was  some 
thing  the  Far-Folk  wanted  very  much.  The 
keeping  of  it  provided  an  occupation,  and  the 
promised  unearthing  an  excitement  for  which 
their  long  truce  with  the  Far- Folk  gave  them 
an  appetite.  In  any  case  it  must  come  up  and 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     179 

be  hidden  again,  or  they  must  administer  the 
Cup  to  Daria  a  second  time.  This  involved  a 
wrenching  of  their  sympathies  they  were  un 
willing  to  endure,  even  if  it  lay  in  justice  to 
twice  enforce  her.  They  were  the  readier  for 
the  enterprise  since  it  appeared  not  necessarily 
to  involve  the  acceptance  of  Herman's  idea. 
Prassade  and  Persilope  then,  with  Mancha 
and  Herman,  of  course,  two  of  the  keepers — 
the  same  who  had  buried  it — and  several 
strong  men  beside,  set  out  for  the  cache  of  the 
King's  Desire.  They  went  north  and  seaward 
by  a  shorter  route  than  the  Ward  had  taken, 
since  they  had  not  the  same  need  of  doubling 
for  concealment.  They  passed  the  upper  limit 
of  redwoods  and  came  to  a  region  of  thin, 
spiked  spruce  and  pines,  knuckly  promontor 
ies  encrusted  with  lichen  sticking  out  of  a  thin, 
whitish  soil.  By  afternoon  they  struck  into  a 
gulley  where  an  opaque  stream  purled  in  shal 
low  basins  and  spilled  in  thin  cascades  to 
gravely  levels.  Here  they  began  to  take  note 
of  landmarks  and  measure  distances.  First 
there  was  a  sheer  jut  of  country  rock,  stained 
black  by  the  dribble  of  a  spring.  Below  it  a 
half  moon  of  pond  as  green  as  malachite.  Di 
rectly  up  from  that,  on  the  shoulder  of  a  stony 


1 8o  OUTLAND 

hill,  five  pines,  slender  and  virginal,  stood 
circlewise,  bent  somehow  by  weather  stress  to 
the  postures  of  dancing.  They  balanced  in 
the  wind  and  touched  the  tips  of  their 
stretched,  maiden  boughs. 

From  here,  ascending,  the  stream  spindled 
to  a  thread,  and  led  the  eye  under  the  combe 
of  the  ridge  to  a  high  round  boulder,  gripped 
midlong  of  its  fall  by  the  curled  roots  of  a 
pine.  Under  the  boulder  was  the  cache  of  the 
King's  Desire. 

I  asked  Herman  afterward  how  soon  the  in 
timation  of  what  they  were  to  find  there  began 
to  reach  them,  and  he  said,  to  himself  not  at 
all.  He  remembered  Prassade  asking  of  No- 
che,  if  this  was  the  trail  they  had  taken  with 
the  Ward,  and  the  old  man's  quick,  sidewise 
glance  that  questioned  why  he  asked.  He  re 
membered  as  they  came  by  the  green  water, 
one  of  the  keepers  stooping  to  examine  some 
thing,  and  Noche  beginning  to  twitch  and 
bristle  like  a  dog  striking  an  unwelcome  trail. 
They  came  to  the  boulder.  Signs  of  the  recent 
rains  were  all  about,  the  half-uprooted  pine 
that  braced  it  showed  a  slight  but  fresh  abra 
sion  of  the  bark.  The  two  keepers  had  their 
heads  together,  whispering  apart. 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     181 

They  would  not  believe  it!  Even  when  the 
first  scraping  of  the  wooden  shovels  showed 
the  soil  loose  and  yielding,  and  below  the  per 
colating  dampness  of  the  rains  they  found 
filling  of  fresh,  dry  gravel,  they  would  not 
believe  the  cache  had  been  rifled. 

The  jewels  were  in  a  great  chest,  red  and 
rotten,  corded  up  with  skins,  half  a  man's 
length  under  ground.  So  said  Noche,  who 
had  buried  them.  They  dug;  they  were  waist 
deep,  they  were  up  to  their  armpits ;  they  dug 
steadily. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  sound  of  the  shovels 
striking  solid.  They  exclaimed  with  relief. 
Noche  was  old,  and  in  ten  years  had  forgotten. 
Then  the  diggers  cleared  the  ground  and 
showed  the  solid  country  rock. 

Whoever  had  lifted  the  Treasure  had  done 
it  most  cleverly.  Every  particle  of  the  soil 
removed  had  been  taken  out  on  skins  and  put 
back  again  with  filling  brought  ready  for  the 
purpose,  so  that  no  sinking  of  the  surface 
should  betray  the  theft.  It  had  been  done  re 
cently,  between  the  rains.  On  the  white, 
abraided  bark  of  the  pine  there  were  splatter- 
ings  of  the  rapid  downpour  of  the  last  heavy 
shower. 


1 82  OUTLAND 

Let  but  a  few  weeks  of  stormy  weather  go 
over  and  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  say 
that  the  place  had  been  visited. 

The  Outliers  might  have  gone  on  guard 
ing  an  empty  cache  for  generations.  They 
shuddered  back  from  such  a  possibility  like 
men  suddenly  upon  a  brink.  They  were,  in 
fact,  so  shocked  and  astounded  by  the  theft 
that  their  faculties  were  all  abroad.  They 
dug  wide  and  furiously,  Noche  pawing  over 
every  crumbling  clod  with  a  whimpering 
sound  like  a  hound  at  a  fox's  earth. 

High  up  as  the  place  was,  higher  ridges 
made  a  pit  of  it  which  now,  as  the  light  re 
ceded,  they  flung  full  of  blackness.  On  the 
combe  above,  the  young  pines  were  black 
against  pale  twilight,  dancing  and  deriding. 

Night-eyed  as  the  Outliers  were,  they  dared 
not  risk  the  loss  of  the  faintest  clue  by  tram 
pling  heedlessly.  The  theft  and  the  cunning 
manner  of  it  pointed  to  one  thing — the  Far- 
Folk.  On  that  point  they  were  sure;  and  on 
one  other. 

The  King's  Desire  was  gone,  it  should  come 
back  again.  They  swore  it.  One  of  them 
lifted  up  his  hand  to  take  the  oath,  as  the  cus- 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     183 

torn  was,  by  the  honor  of  the  Maiden  Ward. 

"Stop!"  said  Prassade. 

I  do  not  know  what  things  leaped  together 
in  the  man's  mind,  what  circumstance  but  half 
observed,  what  weakness  of  his  blood  yet 
unconfessed,  what  scrupulosity  of  honor. 
"Stop!"  he  said,  and  the  swearer's  hand 
slacked  limply.  Mancha  propped  it  up 
fiercely  with  his  own. 

"By  the  honor  of  the  Maiden  Ward,"  he 
swore,  "it  comes  back  again." 

Prassade  gurgled  in  his  throat.  In  the  gray 
light  as  they  looked  at  each  other,  it  grew 
upon  them  that  the  loss  of  the  Treasure  meant 
betrayal.  Daria,  Zirriloe,  the  four  keepers,  to 
whom  should  they  apportion  dishonor?  From 
that  time,  said  Herman,  no  man  looked  full  at 
his  neighbor  or  spoke  freely  what  he  thought 
until  they  came  to  Deep  Fern. 

In  the  meantime  it  had  occurred  to  me  that 
I  was  not  seeing  as  much  of  Ravenutzi  as  was 
implied  in  my  promise  to  Trastevera.  Be 
sides,  I  thought  it  might  be  interesting  to 
know  what  he  thought  of  the  redisposal  of  the 
King's  Treasure.  I  had  followed  the  use  of 
the  Outliers  up  to  this  time  in  not  speaking  of 
it  to  him. 


1 84  OUTLAND 

I  was  sitting  between  the  roots  of  a  redwood 
steeped  in  the  warm  fragrance  and  languor  of 
a  pine  forest  in  the  spring,  when  this  notion 
occurred  to  me.  The  force  with  which  this 
idea  caught  me  might  have  arisen  from  Tras- 
tevera's  wishing  it  at  that  moment,  or  Rav- 
enutzi's  being  engaged  on  some  business  that 
made  my  presence  advisable.  Accordingly  I 
looked  for  the  smith  in  the  accustomed  places, 
where,  in  the  fulfillment  of  his  hostage,  he 
made  a  point  of  being  unobtrusively  and  con 
tentedly  about.  He  could  be  found  oftenest 
with  Noche,  the  only  one  of  the  men  who  af 
forded  him  an  unaffronting  companionship. 
But  this  morning  I  could  not  find  him  in  the 
Fern,  nor  at  his  smithy  under  the  fall,  nor 
with  the  fishers  at  the  creek.  It  was  quite  by 
accident  that  I  came  upon  him  some  hours 
later  sitting  on  a  stump  in  an  artificial  clear 
ing  not  much  frequented  by  the  Outliers, 
since  it  had  been  a  hunters'  camp  and  had  the 
man  taint  about  it.  As  he  sat  turning  over 
some  small  matters  in  his  hand,  his  brow  knit 
ting  and  unknitting,  the  whole  man  seemed  to 
bristle  with  some  evil,  anxious  intent.  If  there 
had  been  flames  jutting  from  him,  green  spit 
ting  flames  from  eye  and  brow,  they  could  not 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     185 

have  given  to  him  an  aspect  more  sinister  and 
burning.  The  mobile  tip  of  his  nose  twitched 
slightly,  the  full,  gracile  lips  were  drawn 
back,  bracketed  by  deep,  unmirthful  lines. 
The  whole  personality  of  the  man  pulsed  and 
wavered  with  the  fury  of  his  cogitations, 
which,  when  he  looked  up  and  saw  me,  he 
gathered  up  with  a  gesture  and  disposed  of 
like  a  snake  swallowing  its  skin. 

From  the  moment  that  his  eyes  lighted  on 
mine  his  look  neither  flinched  nor  faltered, 
but  all  the  evil  preoccupation  of  him  seemed 
to  retreat  and  withdraw  under  their  velvet. 
His  mood  yielded,  as  it  seemed  to  me  he  al 
ways  did  yield,  gracefully  to  my  understand 
ing  and  the  security  of  sympathy.  He  had 
been  busy  as  I  came  up,  with  some  bits  of 
leaves  and  blossoms  and  sticks,  all  of  special 
significance,  by  which  the  Outliers  could 
communicate  as  well  as  by  letter.  He  was 
tying  them  in  a  bundle,  which,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  me,  he  began  to  untie  and  scatter  as 
though  there  had  been  no  object  in  it  but  mere 
employment 

Seeing  him  set  his  foot  on  some  shredded 
petals  of  a  sentimental  significance,  I  thought 
he  might  have  been  composing  a  message  to 


1 86  OUTLAND 

some  woman  of  his  own,  to  her  who  had  corne 
to  me  at  Leaping  Water  perhaps,  and  de 
stroyed  it  as  one  tears  verses  written  in  secret. 
I  was  quite  willing  to  help  him  from  the  em 
barrassment  of  being  caught  at  such  an  occu 
pation  by  falling  in  with  his  first  suggestion. 

"Come,"  he  said,  making  room  on  the 
stump  beside  him,  "it  is  a  good  day  for  teach 
ing  you  to  be  completely  the  Outlier  that  I 
believe  you  are  at  heart." 

He  lifted  a  heap  of  twigs  and  flowers,  chose 
a  spray  of  laurel  and  berries  of  toyon,  with 
two  small  sticks,  one  of  which  was  carefully 
measured  three-fourths  of  the  length  of  the 
other. 

"Now  what  does  this  say?" 

"The  toyon  means  courage,  but  taken  with 
the  laurel  probably  means  a  place  where  they 
grow  together,"  I  answered,  proud  of  know 
ing  so  much;  "two  things  of  the  same  kind 
mean  time — two  days — no,  one  day  and  three- 
quarters." 

"Say  to-morrow  at  mid-afternoon."  Then 
he  considered,  and  added  a  small  feather. 
"And  this?" 

I  was  doubtful. 

"Speed,"  I  hazarded. 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     187 

He  gave  the  two  low,  warning  notes  of  the 
quail,  and  I  clapped  my  hands,  recognizing  it 
as  a  quail's  feather. 

aBe  quick  and  cautious!" 

He  laughed  encouragement,  and  then  shyly, 
after  some  consideration,  he  bound  them  all 
together  with  a  sprig  of  a  vine  that  spells  de 
votion,  and  stuck  it  in  his  girdle. 

"See,"  he  declared,  "you  have  sent  me  a 
message  appointing  a  secret  meeting,  and  I 
shall  wear  it  openly  to  show  that,  old  as  I  am, 
I  am  not  too  old  to  appreciate  ladies'  favors." 

He  roughed  his  streaked  gray  hair  as  he 
laughed  again  with  a  delicate  whimsicality 
that  took  off  the  edge  of  offence. 

"Sometimes,  Ravenutzi,  I  think  you  are  not 
so  old  as  you  look." 

"Ah,  when?" 

"Just  now  when  I  came  upon  you.  And 
when  they  talk  of  the  King's  Desire.  From 
the  way  you  look  when  they  talk  of  selling  it 
to  secure  the  title  to  their  land,  I  gather  the 
Far- Folk  won't  be  very  well  pleased  with  that 
disposition." 

"Would  you  expect  it,  seeing  that  it  belongs 
to  us?" 

"But  does  it?" 


1 88  OUTLAND 

"Who  but  our  fathers  brought  it  from  the 
Door  of  Death?  It  makes  no  difference  with 
belonging  that  the  Outliers  have  kept  us  out  of 
our  own  so  many  years." 

"If  it  comes  to  that,"  I  said,  "it  doesn't  seem 
to  me  to  belong  to  either  of  you." 

"It  was  ours  in  the  beginning.  Be  sure  it 
will  come  in  the  end  to  our  hand  again." 

"Was  that  what  you  were  thinking  about 
when  I  came  up?" 

"I  suppose  so.  I  often  think  about  it.  An 
ill  subject  for  a  good  day."  He  rose  up  to 
dismiss  it.  "Let  us  go  and  see  if  the  spring  is 
full." 

We  went  up  through  the  tall  timber 
through  a  chain  of  grassy  meadows,  little 
meadows  planted  fair  with  incense  shrub  and 
hound's  tongue  and  trillium.  We  nibbled 
sprigs  of  young  fir,  surprised  birds  at  their 
mating  and  a  buck  pawing  in  the  soft  earth. 
I  do  not  remember  if  the  spring  was  full  or 
not,  but  I  recall  very  well  that  as  we  came 
back  skirting  the  edge  of  under-grown  forest, 
stiff  with  stems  like  a  wall,  Ravenutzi  made 
a  great  to-do  because  he  had  lost  my  token. 
That  was  singular  to  me,  because  a  little  time 
before  when  he  helped  me  over  a  bog  I  had 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     189 

seen  it  sticking  quite  firmly  in  the  crossing  of 
his  girdle.  He  would  not  go  back  to  look  for 
it,  insisted  rather  that  we  should  go  around  by 
the  Laurel  Bank  where  toyon  grew,  and  gather 
its  belated  berries  to  make  another.  So  being 
very  gay  about  it,  and  laughing  a  great  deal, 
we  got  back  to  camp  with  Ravenutzi's  belt 
stuck  full  of  laurel  and  toyon,  the  last  hour  of 
the  morning.  This  was  about  the  time  the 
treasure  diggers,  setting  three  of  their  party 
on  the  faint  trail  they  had  found,  turned  back 
toward  Deep  Fern. 

They  arrived  about  two  hours  before  suri- 
set,  went  straight  to  Persilope,  talked  with 
him  apart,  remained  otherwise  separate  and 
uncommunicable.  Already  some  invisible 
warning  of  their  approach  ran  about  the  basin 
and  drew  the  Outliers  in  from  whatever  busi 
ness  they  were  abroad  upon.  They  came 
hurrying  and  crowding  into  the  long  narrow 
meadow  between  the  creek  and  the  wood,  flut 
tered  and  full  of  questioning.  The  unexpected 
return  of  the  party,  empty  handed,  the  lessen 
ing  of  their  number,  their  grave  silences, 
Noche's  distracted  appearance,  Mancha's  head 
held  high,  Prassade's  hung  down;  all  these 
kept  enquiry  and  supposition  rife. 


1 90  OUTLAND 

The  wood  began  to  resound  with  calls, 
which  were  answered  from  far  and  near  as 
the  belated  ones  came  hurrying  from  fishing 
and  hunting  and  isolated  huts.  In  the  middle 
meadow  the  treasure  hunters  sat  together  on 
the  ground.  Persilope  walked  up  and  down. 
Around  the  edge  of  the  wood  ran  the  whisper 
and  jostle  of  fresh  arrivals.  Now  and  then 
Persilope  took  note  of  them,  awaiting  the  last 
impatiently  for  the  time  to  speak.  The  sun 
traveled  seaward,  and  the  fan-spread,  vapor 
ous  rays  of  blueness  ranged  through  the  red 
woods  and  melted  into  twilight.  The  noise  of 
coming  fell  off  by  degrees,  and  every  man 
began  to  count  and  question  to  know  for 
whom  they  waited.  It  appeared  the  Maiden 
Ward  was  still  abroad.  She  had  gone  that 
afternoon  with  the  one  keeper  and  two  women 
to  the  ridge  behind  Deep  Fern  to  dig  certain 
roots  for  dyeing.  She  was  late  returning. 
Two  or  three  stars  had  come  out  in  the  twilit 
space  when  far  back  under  the  redwoods  there 
was  the  sound  of  a  man  running.  The  pad, 
pad  of  his  feet  on  the  thick  needles  drew  near, 
burst  upon  us,  cleared  the  ring  of  listeners  and 
carried  the  man  full  into  the  open,  gasping 
and  panting. 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     191 

"Gone!  Gone!"  he  shouted.  "Lost!  Seized 
and  stolen!" 

The  words,  sharp  and  startling,  brought  all 
the  sitters  to  their  feet  like  the  cracking  of  a 
whip. 

"Who?  Who,  and  where?"  cried  Prassade, 
taking  the  man,  who  was  the  fourth  keeper, 
by  the  shoulders  and  wheeling  him  round  face 
to  face.  "Is  it  my  daughter?  What  have  you 
done  with  her?" 

"Gone!"  he  declared  again  in  the  midst  of 
panting. 

"Of  her  own  will?  When?  In  what  direc 
tion?"  With  every  question  Prassade  shook 
him  as  if  he  would  have  jolted  the  answer  out 
of  him  in  default  of  words. 

"Let  me  breathe.  Just  now.  I  came  as 
fast  as  I  could.  Not  of  her  own  will,  I  think. 
There  were  others — one  other." 

The  man  struggled  with  his  agitation.  Per- 
silope  counseled  patience;  the  hearers  closed 
round  him  in  a  ring,  as  he  grew  more  co 
herent. 

They  were  out,  he  said,  on  sodden  ground 
along  the  foot  of  the  Laurel  Bank,  he  and  the 
two  women  digging  roses.  Zirriloe  strayed 
along  the  lower  edge  of  the  Bank,  There  was 


192  OUTLAND 

a  toyon  bush,  full  berried,  grown  up  among 
the  laurels,  and  she  gathered  the  scarlet  clus 
ters  for  her  hair. 

She  had  been  a  long  time  pushing  close 
among  the  branches,  reaching  for  the  hand 
somest  berries,  some  thirty  paces  from  them, 
but  never  out  of  sight.  They  could  see  her 
dress  among  the  leaves.  Yes,  they  were  all 
sure  of  that.  He  could  not  say  how  long  it 
was  before  it  occurred  to  them  as  strange  that 
she  should  stand  there  so  long  in  the  toyon. 
Nor  how  long  after  that  it  dawned  upon  them 
that  it  was  not  she  but  her  dress  which  they 
looked  at  hanging  there  in  the  chaparral, 
stirred  by  the  wind.  One  of  the  women  went 
to  look,  and  found  the  Ward's  outer  garment 
stuck  shoulder  high  among  the  branches. 
They  thought  it  a  prank  at  first,  bent  back  the 
boughs,  peering  and  calling.  Beyond  the 
close  outer  wall  of  foliage  the  thicket  was 
open  enough  for  careful  passage.  They 
pushed  into  the  thickest  stems,  suspecting  her 
in  ambush.  One  of  the  women  some  paces 
ahead,  beginning  to  be  annoyed,  searching 
rapidly,  spied  something  slipping  from  hol 
low  shade  to  shade.  She  made  an  exclamation 
of  discovery  which  changed  to  fright  as  a  man 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     193 

shot  out  from  the  laurels  in  front  of  her  and 
disappeared.  They  had  all  seen  him  crouch 
ing  and  running  under  the  low  branches  up 
the  slope. 

They  had  spent  little  time  after  that  look 
ing  about  them.  It  was  already  dusk  in  the 
chaparral.  The  speaker  had  left  the  women 
behind,  and  come  on  rapidly  to  send  some  one 
younger  on  the  darkling  trail.  He  turned 
toward  the  girl's  father  as  he  spoke,  as  being 
naturally  the  most  interested.  I  could  see 
Prassade's  face  set  and  harden  with  the  narra 
tive,  the  line  of  his  mouth  thinning.  Now  it 
widened  to  let  out  two  sharp  questions. 

"Did  you  see  any  sign  of  struggle  or  cap 
ture?" 

"Not  a  leaf  disturbed,  not  a  twig  broken, 
but  indeed  we  went  only  a  little  way ' 

"What  sort  of  a  man  was  it?" 

"He  was  dressed  as  an  Outlier." 

"Ah!"  The  trap  of  Prassade's  lips  went 
shut  again,  he  had  got  what  he  waited  for. 

"But  you  did  not  think  him  one?"  It  was 
Persilope  took  up  the  question. 

"It  was  very  dark  under  the  laurels;  he  ran 
fast." 

"Was  he  Far-Folk?" 


i94  OUTLAND 

"So  the  woman  thought." 

I  could  see  in  the-dusk  the  lift  of  Prassade's 
shoulders,  and  the  slight  inclination  of  his 
palms  outward.  He  had  had  all  that  day  and 
the  night  for  wondering  what  his  daughter's 
part  in  the  theft  of  the  treasure  might  have 
been.  Perhaps — who  knew? — some  unadmit 
ted  fact  had  gone  to  the  shaping  of  his  con 
clusion.  He  turned  to  Persilope,  and  his 
voice  cracked  with  hardness. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "we  have  affairs 
more  important  than  the  flight  of  a  dishonored 
girl." 

"No,  by  the  Friend!"  cried  a  man,  one  of 
those  who  had  gone  with  the  Treasure  party. 
"It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  all  one  affair,  and 
we  shall  find  the  girl  when  we  find  the  King's 
Desire.  They  have  gone  together." 

At  this,  which  was  the  first  announcement 
of  the  loss  so  plainly  intimated  by  the  demean 
or  of  the  party,  there  ran  a  sound  of  unbelief 
and  bewilderment  around  the  camp. 

"Gone!"  they  cried,  and  "Gone!  The  King's 
Treasure!"  in  every  accent  of  incredulity  and 
surprise. 

"Ay,  gone,"  said  Prassade,  "seized,  stolen 
away,"  unconsciously  repeating  the  words  of 


THE  KING'S  DESIRE  DUG  UP     195 

the  keeper,  "gone  with  my  honor  and  the  faith 
of  the  Outliers." 

While  the  keeper  told  his  story  the  listeners, 
in  the  manner  of  crowds,  surged  forward, 
closing  between  him  and  the  dispirited  Treas 
ure  party.  At  Prassade's  admission  of  his  dis 
honor,  they  were  disrupted  suddenly  by  sharp, 
explosive  sounds  which  I  knew  for  the  rap 
ping  of  Mancha's  hammer.  At  the  instant  of 
the  keeper's  announcement  I  had  seen  him 
rise  and  gird  himself,  beginning  to  look  about 
like  a  man  missing  some  necessary  thing,  too 
perturbed  to  recall  just  what  he  wanted.  One 
of  his  young  men  slipped  his  hammer  into  his 
hand,  and  at  the  feel  of  its  familiar  handle  a 
little  of  the  strained  look  left  his  face.  Then 
the  crowd  swallowed  him  in  its  eagerness  to 
hear  what  Prassade  and  the  keeper  said. 

Now  as  the  circle  broke  back  from  him  and 
the  sound  of  his  whirling  hammer,  I  saw  the 
pale  blotch  of  his  face  and  hair  distinct  in  the 
twilight. 

"Oh,  Persilope,"  he  said,  "take  what  meas 
ures  you  will  for  the  recovery  of  the  King's 
Desire,  but  this  is  my  business.  Here  should 
be  no  talk  of  honor  or  dishonor,  but  simple 
outrage.  A  man  of  the  Far- Folk  has  crossed 


i96  OUTLAND 

into  our  country  and  stolen  the  Maiden  Ward. 
Let  no  man  put  any  other  name  to  it  until  I 
have  brought  her  back  again.  But  first  bring 
me  the  smith.  Before  I  go  I  would  ask  of  him 
how  it  is,  while  the  hostage  stands,  men  of  his 
breed  have  trespassed  on  my  borders.  Where 
is  Ravenutzi?" 

The  crowd  turned  upon  itself.  They  had  a 
system,  though  I  could  never  understand  it, 
by  which  they  could  locate  and  account  for 
the  tribesmen  when  called  upon.  Now  on 
Mancha's  asking,  the  rustle  and  movement  be 
gan,  hesitated,  and  grew  rapidly  into  a  deep 
excited  hum  of  resentment  as  the  word  passed 
from  group  to  group  that  Ravenutzi  was  not 
among  them. 


X 

THE  LEDGE 

BETWEEN     the    morning    and    the 
dead  hours  of  night  I  was  awakened 
in  the  hut,  feeling  Evarra's  hands 
go  over  me  lightly  as  squirrels'  as 
she  gathered  up  her  belongings. 
"What  are  you  doing,  Evarra?" 
"Making  ready." 
"For  what?" 

"Child,  the  Ward  is  stolen  and  the  Far- 
Folk  have  taken  the  King's  Desire,  and  you 
ask  me  that!" 

"What  is  that  sound  I  hear,  Evarra,  like  a 
wounded  creature?" 

"It  is  the  mother  of  the  Ward." 
"It  hurts  to  hear  it;  may  I  go  to  her?" 
"You!    What  could  you  say  to  her?     Be 
sides,  it  is  better  for  her  to  have  her  cry  out 
before  she  comes  where  her  man  is." 
"Where  is  Prassade?" 

197 


i98  OUTLAND 

uWhere  we  must  be  at  mid-morning,  at  the 
Ledge." 

"And  Mancha?" 

"Where  he  should  have  been  this  month 
past,  at  River  Ward.  It  was  there  the  stealers 
came  through." 

"Have  you  any  word?" 

"Before  the  Council  parted  a  message  came 
from  the  trackers  who  had  found  a  sign.  The 
stealers  went  through  by  Broken  Head.  Sleep 
now,"  she  said. 

I  heard  the  light  scrape  of  her  feet  on  the 
threshold,  and  I  lay  still  at  the  bottom  of  a 
pit  of  blackness,  from  which  at  unutterable 
heights  I  could  make  out  a  point  of  light  or 
two  cut  off  at  times  by  the  indistinguishable 
stir  of  boughs. 

Between  the  trees  the  lights  of  the  Outliers 
illumined  the  space  under  the  shut  branches 
faintly  as  the  lights  in  crypts  that  show  where 
the  bones  of  saints  are  laid.  I  lay  revolving 
in  my  mind  all  the  circumstance  of  my  coming 
here  and  of  my  connection  with  the  Ward  and 
Ravenutzi.  Suddenly  there  flashed  forth,  like 
a  picture  on  a  screen,  the  incident  of  that  let 
ter  which  I  had  helped  Ravenutzi  to  make. 
The  token  he  had  worn  so  gaily  and  lost  so 


THE  LEDGE  199 

unaccountably.  It  had  been  a  true  message 
dropped  conveniently  for  one  who  waited  for 
it,  and  I  grew  sick  and  hot  in  the  dark  think 
ing  how  he  had  used  me.  I  must  have  dozed 
after  that,  for  I  thought  the  sound  of  crying 
increased  outside,  and  it  was  no  longer  the 
Ward's  mother,  but  the  tall  woman  of  the 
woods  who  called  me  by  my  name  to  upbraid 
me.  A  moment  later  it  changed  to  Evarra 
calling  me  awake. 

As  yet  no  beam  shone  or  bird  sang;  I  saw 
the  shapes  of  the  women  blocked  indistin- 
guishably  in  the  mouse-colored  mist.  I 
watched  them,  by  that  wild  faculty  of  theirs 
for  covering  their  traces  as  the  fox  covers 
its  tracks,  draw,  as  it  were,  the  surface  of  the 
forest  over  all  the  signs  of  their  occupancy. 
They  strewed  dry,  rotting  fern  above  the 
caches,  leaf  litter  where  the  hearths  had  been. 
When  I  rose  and  went  out  to  them,  Evarra 
touched  my  bed  with  her  foot  once,  twice,  and 
it  was  no  bed,  but  the  summer  drift  about  the 
roots  of  trees.  As  we  went  hillward  silence 
spread  behind  us  in  the  meadows  and  took  the 
place  with  desolation. 

By  the  ridge  between  Deep  Fern  and  Deer 
Lake  Hollow  the  women  with  young  children 


200  OUTLAND 

turned  off  toward  some  safe,  secret  center, 
there  to  wait  word  from  their  men.  Evarra 
and  the  more  active  women  kept  on  to  the 
Ledge.  I  went  with  them,  not  being  wanted 
very  much,  but  because  in  the  hurry  of  Coun 
cil  no  other  provision  had  been  made  for  me. 
To  understand  all  that  went  on  in  the  next 
few  weeks,  it  is  necessary  to  be  precise.  Deep 
Fern  is  as  far  from  Broken  Tree  as  a  strong 
man  can  walk  in  twelve  or  fourteen  hours, 
walking  steadily,  and  the  Ledge  is  ten  hours 
from  Deep  Fern.  It  runs,  a  great  dyke  of 
porphyry,  with  the  contour  of  the  hills,  at  the 
upper  limit  of  tall  trees  and  makes  a  boundary 
between  Outland  and  the  Far-Folk.  Begin 
ning  and  end  of  it  I  never  saw,  but  from  a 
place  called  Windy  Cover  to  River  Ward  I 
knew  it  very  well.  In  this  place  it  passes  over 
shallow,  stony  soil,  in  which  nothing  grows 
more  than  knee  height,  except  on  the  lee  side 
of  one  strong  hill  where  a  triangular  space  of 
lilac  and  toyon  reaches  quite  up  to  the  rocky 
wall.  The  chaparral  is  tall  enough  for  a  man 
or  a  deer  to  walk  in  it  upright.  Certain  small 
winds  forever  straying  and  whirling  here*, 
ruffling  the  tops  of  the  scrub  and  stirring  the 
branches,  make  it  possible  for  such  a  passage 


THE  LEDGE  201 

to  take  place  unobserved.  The  stir  of  a  man 
moving  through  it,  indistinguishable  from  the 
running  movements  of  the  wind,  gives  the 
place  its  name  of  Windy  Covers. 

From  here  the  Ledge  goes  East,  high  and 
impassable,  following  the  hills  until  it  reaches 
the  gap  where  the  river  comes  through.  There 
it  leaves  off  for  a  crow's  flight,  and  the  river 
continues  that  boundary  until  it  touches  the 
Ledge  again.  The  whole  of  this  space  being 
thickly  wooded  and  the  river  running  shal- 
lowly  at  seasons,  it  was  here  the  Far-Folk 
trespassed  most.  Here  past  the  end  of  the 
Dyke  the  filchers  of  the  King's  Desire  had 
come.  The  whole  region  was  known  as 
River  Ward,  and  Mancha  kept  watch  over  it. 
Beyond  its  second  point  of  contact  with  the 
dyke,  called  Broken  Head,  the  Ledge  went  on 
south  a  very  great  distance.  I  never  heard 
how  far,  though  from  something  that  I  heard 
at  Windy  Covers  I  gathered  that  the  Outliers 
possessed  all  the  district  south  as  far  as  the 
Sur.  Just  beyond  Broken  Head  the  river 
widens  and  makes  a  turn  where  there  is  easy 
passing,  called  from  the  sound  of  it  going 
over  the  smooth  stones,  Singing  Ford.  All 


202  OUTLAND 

the  other  places  I  have  named  lay  north  of  the 
river  between  it  and  the  Ledge. 

We  came  to  Windy  Covers  a  little  after 
midday.  I  should  have  said,  looking  up  its 
green  steep,  level  grown  as  a  mown  field,  that 
all  the  Outliers  were  there  before  us.  The 
tops  of  the  scrub  were  all  ashake;  the  lilacs 
tossed,  the  buckthorn  turned  and  whitened. 
Lines  of  wavering  showed  in  it  like  the  stir  of 
a  meadow  when  rabbits  run  in  the  grass.  But 
it  turned  out  to  be  only  the  wind  walking  for 
we  were  hours  ahead  of  the  men. 

"Ah,  I  told  you  it  was  good  cover,"  said 
Evarra,  as  we  came  in  by  the  green  tunnels 
that  the  deer  had  made. 

I  had  gathered  from  the  talk  of  the  women 
that  we  were  to  lie  there,  guarding  the  pass, 
and  keeping  out  of  River  Ward.  Mancha 
was  occupying  that  section  now,  hoping  not 
to  excite  the  Far-Folk  by  too  active  pursuit. 
It  was  not  known  yet  if  the  lifters  of  the 
Treasure  had  passed  beyond  River  Ward  or 
if  Ravenutzi  had  joined  them,  if  indeed  he 
might  not  yet  be  on  our  side  the  Ledge  with 
the  Ward.  There  were  some  other  points  in 
this  connection  on  which  I  wished  to  satisfy 
myself.  So  when  I  saw  Lianth  mousing  along 


THE  LEDGE  203 

under  the  wall,  I  crept  after  him,  unsus 
pected.  We  came  into  a  little  bay  of  bitten 
scrub  and  a  well-trodden  track  that  led  up 
along  the  stony,  broken  back  of  the  Ledge. 
This  way  the  bucks  had  gone  when  at  the  end 
of  the  mating  season  they  ranged  afar  and  fed 
on  the  high  ridges.  This  way  they  came  down 
to  seek  the  does,  and  along  this  trail  I  saw 
Lianth  pawing  breathlessly,  nose  to  the  thick 
mosses  like  a  snuffling  hound. 

"They  must  have  come  this  way,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  I  assented,  thinking  of  the  deer. 

"If  they  have  crossed,  there  should  be  some 
trace  of  them.  They  must  have  come  in  the 
night  and  could  not  have  gone  so  carefully." 
He  scrutinized  little  heaps  of  leaf  litter  in  the 
crevices,  and  squinted  along  the  ground.  "And 
the  trackers  have  not  been  here  either.  They 
cannot  have  crossed  at  all." 

All  at  once  I  understood  that  he  was  talking 
about  Ravenutzi  and  the  Ward. 

"There  is  no  other  way,"  he  said,  "no  other 
way  possible  for — a  girl." 

"Lianth,  where  is  Herman?" 

He  left  off  pawing  over  the  trail  and 
walked  on  toward  the  rim  of  the  Ledge. 

"Gone  after  her." 


204  OUTLAND 

"Zirriloe?" 

He  nodded. 

"But  why?" 

"Mancha  sent  him." 

"Why  should  he  take  so  much  trouble?  She 
went  where  she  chose.  You  heard  what  the 
keeper  said?" 

"Ah!"  he  cried  woundedly,  "you  women 
are  all  against  her!" 

We  had  reached  the  top  of  the  Ledge  over 
looking  the  Far-Folk  country.  It  was  all 
rounded,  grassy  hills,  stony,  full  of  shallow 
hollows,  with  occasional  depressed  trees,  lying 
in  the  thin,  airy  shadows  that  fall  so  singu 
larly  in  high  places.  It  was  very  still,  two  or 
three  crows  flying  over,  and  far  up  under  the 
blue  a  buzzard  sailing. 

"It's  no  use  looking  out  for  them,"  objected 
Lianth.  "They'll  not  show  themselves  while 
we  are  here." 

"Do  you  think  they  know?" 

"Huh!  Do  rabbits  know  when  coyotes 
hunt?  If  they  know  about  the  King's  De 
sire  what  wouldn't  they  know?" 

He  was  sitting  on  a  heap  of  stones  picking 
the  moss  out  of  the  crannies  and  pitching  it 
down  below.  His  throat  and  chin  were 


THE  LEDGE  205 

strained  and  tight  as  though  no  songs  could 
come  that  way  again. 

"When  I  think  of  her  hands,"  he  said,  "and 
the  parting  of  her  hair,  as  white  as  a  dove's 
egg  ...  if  she  loved  anybody  she  wouldn't 
have  thought  of  anything  else." 

"Evidently  she  didn't,"  I  insisted  cruelly. 
"But  why  do  you  care  so  much?  Even  if  she 
hadn't  run  away  with  Ravenutzi  it  wouldn't 
have  been  you  she  would  have  married,  it 
would  have  been  Mancha." 

To  look  at  the  boy  you  would  have  said  his 
songs  were  not  all  dead,  one  of  them  rose  and 
struggled  to  go  the  accustomed  way,  and  it 
was  a  song  of  boy's  love  and  wounded  trust. 
He  bit  it  back  at  last. 

"Mancha  was  the  only  one  good  enough  for 
her,"  he  choked.  He  was  done  with  the  moss 
now,  and  was  aiming  small  stones  carefully  at 
empty  space.  "I  would  have  wanted  her  to 
have  the  best." 

"At  any  rate  she  took  what  she  wanted." 

He  stood  up,  flushed  and  tormented. 

"You're  just  down  on  her  because  Herman 
is  in  love  with  her,"  he  said. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"I  don't  know."    He  scuffed  the  moss  with 


206  OUTLAND 

his  foot  and  added,  "You  can  always  tell  if 
you're  that  way  yourself.  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  it  any  more,"  walking  away  from  me. 

Presently  he  came  back  stiffly. 

"You  must  come  with  me,"  he  said;  "you 
can't  stay  here.  I  was  told  to  look  after  you." 

"What  time  did  Herman  go?"  I  asked  as 
we  went  down  together. 

"Just  after  Council.  Mancha  wanted  to  go, 
but  they  said  his  place  was  at  River  Ward.  If 
he  had  been  there  all  this  time  the  Far-Folk 
mightn't  have  got  through.  They  let  Herman 
do  what  he  liked,  because  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
him  they  wouldn't  have  found  out  about  the 
stealing  so  soon.  And  look  here" — he  showed 
me  a  spray  of  toyon  berries — "I  went  and 
found  this  after  the  trackers  had  gone.  I  felt 
around  in  the  dark  and  found  it.  It  was  the 
last  thing  she  touched.  It  was  only  half  broken 
off.  She  hadn't  expected  to  go  away;  she  was 
surprised  and  she  left  it  half  broken  off."  He 
put  it  up  in  his  tunic  again.  "I  don't  know 
why  she  went  away  with  Ravenutzi,  but  I 
know  she  never  told  him  where  the  Treasure 
was." 

He  was  so  certain  of  that,  I  had  no  heart 
to  trouble  him  with  doubts,  As  we  came 


THE  LEDGE  207 

down  the  trail  we  saw  the  top  of  Windy  Cov 
ers  all  alive,  rippled  and  streaked  with  mo 
tion. 

"Some  one  is  coming/'  Lianth  volunteered. 

"It  looked  just  like  that  this  morning.  How 
can  you  tell?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell  that.  I  knew  how  just  be 
fore  you  asked  me.  The  way  I  know  Zirriloe 
didn't  tell  Ravenutzi  about  the  King's  Desire; 
I  just  know." 

It  was,  in  fact,  some  of  the  Outliers  who 
had  not  been  at  Deep  Fern,  drawn  from  their 
own  places  by  that  mysterious  capacity  of  evil 
news  to  spread.  They  came  hurrying  all  that 
day  and  the  next.  The  Covers  were  peopled 
thick  as  a  rabbit  warren.  Coveys  of  quail 
whirred  up  from  it  with  a  sharp  explosive 
sound  and  broke  toward  the  wooded  land. 
Except  for  that,  and  the  fact  that  the  quail  did 
not  come  back  again,  there  was  no  sign.  Men 
sat  close  in  the  tunnels,  and  it  was  dreadful  to 
see  the  working  in  them  of  their  resentment  of 
betrayal.  So  much  the  worse  because  they 
knew  it  had  been  half  invited.  They  had  ac 
cepted  a  hostage  of  the  Far-Folk,  who  never 
spoke  straight  nor  did  truly.  What  wonder, 
then,  if  he  had  done  after  his  kind?  They 


208  01  f  I   \M) 

knew — at  this  point  resentment  rose  to  its 
burningest — they  had  always  known,  and 
knowing,  could  not  have  done  otherwise.  Rav- 
enutzi  came  under  honorable  conditions,  and 
they  had  served  him  honorably,  being  so  much 
the  debtor  to  their  own  natures.  They  were 
not  only  sick  to  be  dishonored,  they  sickened 
of  dishonor.  As  they  sat  in  the  green  glooms 
of  Windy  Covers  their  bodies  heaved  and 
flushed,  eyes  reddened,  hands  wrenching  at 
invisible  things.  Now  and  then,  at  the  men 
tion  of  a  name  or  a  circumstance,  some  quick, 
explosive  breath  would  struggle  with  a  curse; 
the  gorge  of  the  spirit  rose. 

Never  among  the  Outliers  had  I  found  my 
self  so  unfriended.  I  felt  myself  burned  upon 
by  their  rages,  but  they  cared  nothing  for  my 
burning.  To  have  harped  upon  my  own  re 
sentment  was  to  advertise  myself  a  witness  of 
their  betrayal.  I  judged  best  to  be  a?  little  in 
evidence  as  was  compatible  without  making 
myself  a  target  for  the  Far-Folk.  I  found 
myself  as  lonely  as  could  well  be  expected. 

Late  of  the  second  day  I  went  down  to  the 
edge  of  the  chaparral  where  the  trees  began 
to  invade  it,  standing  apart  and  singly,  and  the 
chaparral  had  made  itself  small  to  run  under 


THE  LEDGE  209 

the  trees.  I  found  an  island  of  dry  litter  un 
der  a  pine,  and  drew  myself  up  in  it,  out  of  the 
pervading  bitterness  and  betrayal,  flooding  so 
fiercely  under  Windy  Covers. 

It  was  incredibly  still  here;  neither  bird 
hopped  nor  insect  hummed.  The  shadows 
shook  in  the  wind.  I  sat  with  my  head  against 
the  pine  and  my  eves  closed.  By  degrees  1 
thought  the  wind  increased  and  drew  into  a 
long  whisper  which  was  my  name.  This  fancy 
comforted  me  with  the  notion  that  whoever 
abandoned  me,  the  wood  was  still  my  own.  I 
heard  it  several  times  before  a  crackling  in  the 
bushes  aroused  me.  I  turned  to  observe  an 
other  woman  struggling  anear  through  the 
thick  stems  of  man/anita.  As  she  crept  and 
wormed  toward  me  she  drew  on  to  her  knees 
in  the  open  space  under  the  tent  of  the  pine. 
Then  I  saw  that  she  was  the  tall  woman  who 
had  loved  Ravenutzt.  I  saw  more  than  that; 
she  had  come  to  me  through  great  difficulty 
and  by  hard  ways,  her  dress  was  torn,  her 
hands  scratched  and  bleeding,  her  hair,  which 
was  bound  under  a  leathern  snood,  dishev 
eled.  But  whatever  her  difficulties,  they  had 
not  marred  her  so  much  as  the  passions  that 
wasted  her  from  within.  She  was  more  beau- 


210  OUTLAND 

tiful;  the  long,  flushed  throat,  the  red,  scorn 
ing  lip,  the  eyes  darkened  and  hollow.  But 
she  was  so  plainly  gnawed  upon  by  grief  that 
as  we  knelt  there,  I  half  risen  on  my  knees  and 
she  on  hers  confronting  me,  I  could  feel  noth 
ing  but  pity. 

"You!"  I  whispered  dryly. 

"Speak  low,"  she  said,  though  indeed  we 
had  done  nothing  else,  so  did  the  stillness  of 
the  place  weigh  upon  us.  We  were  complete 
ly  isolated  in  a  ring  of  shadow,  the  chaparral 
coming  up  to  the  outer  boughs  of  the  pine, 
and  the  fan-spread  branches  meeting  it  a  foot 
above  our  heads. 

"I  have  waited  for  you  all  day,"  she  whis 
pered.  "Tell  me,  have  you  found  him? 
Where  has  he  taken  her?" 

"I  do  not  know.  We  have  no  trace  of 
them." 

"But  which  way  did  they  go?  From  what 
point  did  they  leave  the  Meet?  Something — 
surely  you  know  something?"  She  clasped 
her  cut  palms  together,  and  I  saw  a  slight 
flinching  at  the  pain  they  gave  her.  She  cast 
it  off  impatiently  as  though  it  were  an  inter 
ruption  to  her  understanding. 


THE  LEDGE  211 

"Tell  me  first  what  you  are  to  him,  that 
you  should  ask?" 

"His  wife!" 

"You — so  young " 

I  had  an  instant  vision  of  Ravenutzi's  white 
hair,  and  then  as  I  had  first  seen  him  washing 
his  hair  at  the  pool  of  the  Leaning  Bay.  At 
the  recollection,  and  perhaps  a  slight  flicker 
of  amusement  in  her  face,  the  two  things 
leaped  together  in  my  mind. 

"Was  that  also  a  pretence?" 

"There  are  herbs  which  .will  bleach  the 
color  from  the  hair  and  draw  the  skin  in 
wrinkles,"  she  said.  "He  had  more  years 
than  I,  but  we  were  young." 

"And  the  hostage,  too,  was  it  all  a  pretence 
from  the  beginning?" 

"What  else?"  impatiently.  "The  King's 
Desire  was  ours,  and  we  schemed  to  get  it 
back  as  we  had  first  won  it.  I  was  as  willing 
as  the  rest  when  we  began.  If  I  was  not  to 
see  him  again  for  three  years,  that  was  my 
part  of  the  service,  and  I  was  proud  to  pay  it. 
But  I  never  thought  of  this.  Oh  no,  never 
this!" 

She  crept  up  to  me  and  eased  the  strained 
position  of  her  limbs. 


212  OUTLAND 

"I  will  tell  you  everything,"  she  moaned, 
"if  you  will  only  answer  me.  Ravenutzi  was 
to  make  friends  with  the  Ward,  and  seduce  the 
secret  from  her.  We  were  to  lift  the  King's 
Desire  as  soon  as  known,  and  nothing  was  to 
be  said  or  hinted  until  the  hostage  was  over. 
Then  if  they  discovered  the  loss,  who  could  be 
blamed  for  it?  He  was  to  stay  the  full  time 
of  the  hostage,  for  if  he  came  away  violently, 
they  would  suspect,  and  go  and  look  to  see  if 
their  Treasure  had  been  moved.  I  knew,  or 
thought  I  knew,  that  if  he  got  anything  from 
the  Ward  she  would  have  to  love  him.  I 
thought  he  could  manage  it.  He  is  very  wise 
in  women.  Even  you " 

I  checked  her  there;  it  was  evident  the  Far- 
Folk  were  acquainted  with  everything  that 
went  on  at  Deep  Fern,  but  I  was  not  going  to 
discuss  my  part  of  it  with  Ravenutzi's  wife. 

"You  had  never  heard,  then,"  I  broke  in 
upon  her,  "that  the  Outliers  chose  their  most 
beautiful  young  woman  to  be  the  Ward?" 

"Oh,  I  had  heard." 

She  put  up  her  hands  to  her  face  in  some 
quick,  indefinable  shame.  I  suppose  Rave 
nutzi  had  contrived  to  keep  her  convinced  of 
the  supremacy  of  her  own  loveliness. 


THE  LEDGE  213 

"When  the  Treasure  was  safe  in  our  hands," 
she  said,  "then  we  heard  that  the  House-Folk 
had  persuaded  them  to  show  the  King's  Desire 
and  it  was  certain  that  the  lifting  of  the  Treas 
ure  would  be  discovered.  We  did  not  think 
it  would  be  so  soon,  but  we  sent  to  bring  Rave- 
nutzi  away.  We  were  sure  he  would  be  killed 
when  the  Treasure  party  returned.  While  the 
Far-Folk  waited,  word  came  that  Ravenutzi 
had  gone  to  make  the  Ward  safe  in  some  secret 
place  and  would  join  us  shortly.  That  was  all. 

No  word  to  me "  Anger  swallowed  up 

her  speech. 

I  tried  to  soothe  her. 

"It  was  the  least  he  could  do  if  she  had  told 
him.  The  Outliers  would  have  killed  her  had 
they  found  her  out." 

"What  matter  to  him  if  they  had?  We  have 
killed  Outliers  before  now  when  it  was  a  ques 
tion  of  the  King's  Desire.  Why  should  he  be 
so  careful  of  her,  unless — unless  he  loves  her?" 

In  the  anguish  of  that  conviction  she  struck 
with  her  wounded  palm  against  the  tree,  and 
sinking  her  head  upon  the  arm  that  Ravenutzi 
had  rested  on,  with  what  bliss  it  gave  her  the 
keener  anguish  to  remember,  set  her  teeth  in 
the  bared,  tender  flesh.  I  let  her  be,  writhing 


2i4  OUTLAND 

like  a  wounded  snake,  for  a  time.  Then,  as 
the  best  cure,  I  began  to  tell  her  with  particu 
larity  all  I  could  recall  of  the  flight  of  the 
smith  and  the  Ward  from  Deep  Fern. 

She  questioned  as  she  listened;  would  have 
me  be  precise. 

She  had  never  been  any  nearer  to  Deep 
Fern  than  the  place  where  I  had  found  her 
the  second  day  of  the  Meet.  Could  she  reach 
it  easiest  from  here  by  way  of  Leaping  Water 
or  otherwise?  Just  how  far  was  the  Laurel 
Bank  from  the  long  meadow,  and  how  could 
one  get  at  it?  I  could  see  the  purpose  grow 
in  her  to  strike  that  trail  and  follow  it  to  what 
ever  end.  She  listened  and  hardened. 

"Tell  me  well  how  she  looks,"  she  said,  "so 
that  if  I  find  this  flagrant  girl  I  may  not  mis 
take  her,"  and  I  saw  her  blench  as  I  named 
the  points  of  the  Ward's  beauty.  She  jerked 
and  quivered.  Little  sentences  escaped  from 
her  like  phrases  of  a  delirium,  of  the  utterance 
of  which  I  think  she  was  unconscious. 

"Little  fair  hands,"  she  said,  "a  trivial  heart 
.  .  .  hair  of  two  colors  ...  a  snare,  a  snare 
...  a  crumpled  lip  goes  with  a  false  tongue 
..."  Her  jealousy  kept  pace.  "Kill  her, 
would  they?  .  .  .  Let  them  .  .  .  does  he  think 


THE  LEDGE  215 

to  keep  her  who  could  not  keep  her  word? 
Does  he  lie  safely  with  this  false  Ward  while 
his  people  wait  for  him  at 

"Stop!"  I  said.  "I  have  told  you  all  that 
concerns  you  personally,  as  one  woman  to  an 
other.  But  I  advise  you,  I  am  on  the  side  of 
the  Outliers,  if  you  say  anything  of  value  to 
them  I  shall  not  keep  it." 

She  bit  her  lip. 

"What  do  I  know  of  what  the  people  do  in 
my  absence,  or  where  they  foregather?  It  is 
of  him  I  think;  does  he  imagine  me  waiting 
in  my  house  like  a  faithful  wife ' 

She  threw  out  her  arms,  rocking  on  her 
knees. 

.  .  .  "Long,  oh  long,  have  I  been  gathering  lilies!  .  .  ." 

I  do  not  know  whether  she  uttered  these 
words  in  the  delirium  of  her  jealousy,  or  if 
something  in  the  anguished  gesture  sent  the 
refrain  of  RavenutzPs  song  sounding  through 
and  through  me.  I  heard  it  shaken  like  an 
organ  somewhere  above  the  sound  of  tears. 

.  .  .  "Long,  oh  long,  have  I  been  gathering  lilies!  .  .  ." 

She  stood  up  as  well  as  she  could  under  the 


216  OUTLAND 

bent  pine,  to  draw  her  dress  into  order,  and 
asked  me  who  had  gone  on  the  trail  of  Rave- 
nutzi.  I  named  all  the  men,  and  then  Her 
man. 

"He  too!"  She  looked  at  me  with  curious 
mocking.  "All  the  men  are  mad,  I  think.  Now 
I  have  a  mind  to  go  and  see  what  this  girl  is 
like  who  sets  all  people  by  the  ears,  and  when 
I  have  found  her  I  shall  come  to  tell  you." 

She  smiled  sidewise  whimsically  as  she 
stooped  to  the  chaparral  again.  Though  there 
was  inordinate  hate  in  her  look  and  insuper 
able  hardness,  there  was  that  in  her  fierce,  tor 
mented  spirit  so  laid  hold  on  me  that  I  neither 
put  out  my  hand  nor  raised  my  voice  to  stay 
her  as  she  went. 


XI 


HOW  THE  OUTLIERS  CAME  UP  WITH  THE  FAR- 
FOLK  AT  A  PLACE  CALLED  THE  SMITHY, 
AND  HERMAN  CAME  BACK  TO  RIVER  WARD 

NOTHING  in  all  that  struggle  ini 
tiated  by  the  lifting  of  the  King's 
Desire,  pleased  me  so  much  as  the 
way  the  Far-Folk  outstretched 
themselves  by  their  own  cunning.  They  had 
chewed  the  cud  of  the  old  grudge  so  long,  dis 
gorging  and  regorging,  that  life  smacked  no 
other  savour  for  them.  They  made  the  mis 
take  of  imagining  no  other  among  their  ene 
mies.  That  slow  treachery  of  Ravenutzi's, 
while  it  burned  against  the  honor  of  the  Out 
liers,  kept  the  habit  of  treacherous  thinking 
alive  among  their  enemies.  The  Far-Folk 
wasted  themselves  upon  the  method  and  left 
not  much  to  reckon  with  beyond  the  fact  of 
possession. 

Let  them  once  get  their  hands  upon  the 
217 


2i8  OUTLAND 

King's  Desire!  They  asked  no  more  than  that, 
planned  very  little  more.  Communication 
with  Ravenutzi  was  difficult.  Never  greater 
than  the  time  of  the  Meet  from  which  they 
hoped  so  much,  when  the  thought  of  the 
Treasure  was  uppermost  in  every  man's  mind. 
Then  hope  overrode  precaution  and  drew 
them,  when  they  had  most  need  to  keep  in  the 
dark,  to  cluster  just  beyond  River  Ward  like 
wastrels  above  the  water  where  the  dead  are 
about  to  rise.  There,  had  he  not  had  other 
business  for  his  thoughts,  Mancha  should  have 
discerned  them.  But  the  Hammerer's  preoc 
cupation,  though  it  saved  them  from  detection 
by  increasing  the  sense  of  safety,  hurried  the 
unearthing  of  the  King's  Desire. 

News  of  this  move  only  reached  the  Far- 
Folk  as  they  lay  all  together,  with  no  prepara 
tion  for  flight  or  siege,  in  a  shallow  canon  back 
of  River  Ward,  humming  with  excited  talk, 
like  a  hive  about  to  swarm.  The  mere  hint  of 
frustration  fanned  them  into  a  fury,  which  was 
succeeded  when  the  Treasure  was  actually  in 
camp,  by  gross,  babbling  boastfulness  and  ex 
ultation.  Close  on  this  came  word  from  Rave 
nutzi  that  he  had  fled  the  Outliers  with  the 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  219 

Ward,  and  they  were  to  await  him  in  a  place 
called  the  Smithy. 

If  they  wondered  why  he  should  have  taken 
so  much  trouble  for  a  girl  who  had  already 
served  her  turn,  they  had  either  less  interest  in 
his  relation  to  her,  or  trusted  him  more.  What 
did  concern  them  was  that  the  same  message 
told  them  that  by  this  time  the  Outliers  were 
in  a  fair  way  to  discover  the  loss  of  the  King's 
Desire. 

They  judged  they  would  be  tracked  and 
planned  their  defense  in  keeping  with  what 
they  thought  the  Outliers'  probable  estimate  of 
themselves.  They  reasoned  that  the  Outliers 
would  be  expecting  lies  in  the  enemy's  coun 
try.  They  left  a  boy  behind  them  to  watch. 
If  the  Outliers  lost  the  trail  he  was  to  run  and 
bring  the  Far- Folk  word.  If  they  struck  the 
trail  to  the  Smithy  he  was  to  turn  them  from 
it  by  the  simple  truth.  There  they  overdid 
themselves.  The  Outliers,  not  yet  inured  to 
lies,  believed  what  the  boy  told  them. 

They  caught  the  boy — one  with  some  spirit 
in  him  meriting  a  better  employment — crawl 
ing  through  the  scrub  half  a  day  beyond  River 
Ward,  and  brought  him  before  Persilope, 
where  he  scratched  and  cursed  awhile  and 


220  OUTLAND 

then  fell  sullen  under  their  questioning.  Let 
them  kill  him,  he  said,  but  he  would  not  tell 
where  his  people  were,  nor  how  to  get  at  them. 

"Nay,  we  will  not  kill  you,  lad,"  Noche  re 
assured  him,  "we  love  you  so  much."  Here 
he  wrapped  his  great  arms  about  the  boy, 
handfast  behind  his  back  as  the  captors  had 
brought  him  in,  and  lifted  him  against  his 
breast. 

"So,"  he  laughed,  "will  you  not  tell  me  for 
love  where  the  Far-Folk  are?" 

"No."  The  boy's  face  flushed  purple,  the 
breath  came  whistling  through  his  teeth. 

"One,"  said  Noche,  and  the  muscles  of  his 
back  began  to  swell. 

"Two,"  said  Noche. 

"Yes-s-ss!"  sung  the  boy's  rattling  breath. 

And  when  Noche,  who  would  have  cracked 
the  ribs  of  a  grown  man  as  well,  set  him  down, 
the  boy  staggered  and  was  sick,  and  admitted 
they  were  at  the  Smithy.  He  had  been  en 
tirely  within  his  instruction  in  that,  but  he 
must  have  seen  the  unwisdom  of  telling  the 
truth  as  he  had  been  instructed,  when  the 
Outliers  set  out  immediately  in  that  direction. 
His  distress  was  evident  and  genuine,  he 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  221 

moaned  and  whimpered,  came  fawning  to 
Persilope. 

"Why,  what  ails  the  boy?"  said  he,  per 
plexed.  "We  want  no  more  of  you." 

"But,  oh,  I  have  lied  to  you,"  whined  the 
lad.  "I  have  lied ;  you  will  kill  me  when  you 
learn  how  I  have  lied.  They  are  not  at  the 
Smithy." 

"Where  then?" 

"Oh,  oh,  I  do  not  know.  Over  there.  At 
Eagle  Rock,  perhaps.  But  certainly  not  at  the 
Smithy." 

His  anxiety  undid  him;  Noche  came  close. 

"Shall  I  say  three  to  you,  my  youngling?" 

The  boy  fell  silent  and  shivering.  All  the 
rest  of  that  journey  Noche  kept  him  service 
able  by  the  mere  motion  of  his  arms. 

The  place  called  the  Smithy  lies  in  the  pit 
of  a  blind  canon,  all  of  rusty  red  volcanic 
stone.  Half-cooled  it  seems,  smudged  black 
with  smoke,  encrusted  with  flakes  of  dark 
lichen  like  soot.  Some  Junipers  grow  there, 
wind  depressed,  all  asquat  above  the  rocks 
like  dwarfed,  warty  things  crept  out  of  the 
ruins  to  take  the  sun.  In  the  middle  of  the  pit 
half  a  score  of  pines  staggered  together  as  if 
awry  with  labor  at  the  cold  forges.  Here  the 


222  OUTLAND 

Far- Folk  repaired  to  wait  the  smith  and  gloat 
upon  his  work.  Here,  when  the  earth  melted 
in  its  own  shadow  under  a  sky  of  dusky  blue- 
ness,  whitening  to  an  unrisen  moon,  the  Out 
liers  found  them.  The  Far-Folk  had  eaten, 
and  sat  about  on  the  broken  stones  gloating. 
Even  in  repose,  and  from  the  top  of  the  hill 
where  the  Outliers  looked  down  at  them,  they 
had  the  attitudes  of  exultation.  The  King's 
Desire  lay  uncorded  in  their  midst,  the  little 
low  fire  struck  a  thousand  bright  reflections 
from  it.  Red  eyes  of  gems  winked  from  be 
hind  a  screen  of  golden  fret.  At  the  head  of 
the  circle  sat  the  chief  of  the  Far-Folk,  and 
the  Cup  of  the  Four  Quarters  was  between 
his  knees. 

This  Oca  was  a  lithe  man,  well  bronzed,  of 
a  singular,  wild,  fearless  bearing;  he  had  a 
beard  of  thick,  wavy  locks  that  he  blew  back 
from  his  lips  as  he  talked,  accommodated  to 
the  carriage  of  his  head  like  sculptor  work. 
Around  his  mouth  there  was  the  evidence  of 
something  half-formed,  undependable,  the 
likeness  of  half  fabled  wood-creatures.  In  his 
eyes,  which  were  bright  and  roving,  and  on 
his  brow,  there  was  the  witness  of  extraordin 
ary  intelligence.  He  had  a  laugh,  short  and 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK          223 

bubbling,  that  came  always  at  the  end  of  his 
words  and  belied  their  seriousness;  it  was  as 
if  some  sardonic  half-god  sat  in  him  and 
laughed  at  his  assumption  of  being  a  man.  He 
laughed  now  as  the  Outliers  looked  down  on 
him,  lifting  the  Cup  of  the  Four  Quarters, 
blowing  back  his  long  lip  locks  to  drink. 

The  Outliers  had  come,  I  say,  to  the  top  of 
the  canon  at  dark,  for  they  had  not  been  very 
sure  of  the  way,  and  had  scorned  to  squeeze 
further  help  from  their  captive.  They  hung 
there  straining  through  the  dusk  to  take  the 
lay  of  the  land  and  for  the  moment  forgot  the 
lad.  He  must  have  had  some  good  stuff  in 
him,  for  all  that  afternoon  he  had  been  white 
with  high  resolve,  when  they  thought  him 
merely  frightened.  The  Outliers'  party  halted 
where  the  coiled  and  undulating  strata  flowed 
down  the  sides  of  the  cafion  like  water  lines  in 
old  bas-reliefs.  Under  the  wiry  trees  they 
made  out  sparkles  of  red  and  green  and  fig 
ures  moving.  Just  then  the  boy  managed,  by 
slipping  on  a  pebble,  to  bring  his  throat  a  foot 
from  Noche's  hand  and  to  let  out  a  cry  form 
less  and  anguished,  breaking  off  in  mid-utter 
ance  like  a  trumpet  torn  asunder.  To  it  suc 
ceeded  the  sound  of  a  limp  body  dropping 


224  OUTLAND 

among  disjointed  stones,  the  rush  of  the  Out 
liers  going  down,  and  the  scuttling  of  the 
Far- Folk  in  the  blind  gulley  like  scared  sheep 
in  a  runway. 

It  was  very  quickly  over.  The  cry  had 
done  its  work  and  the  advantage  of  the  ground 
was  all  to  the  Far-Folk;  dark  people  as  they 
were,  the  dark  befriended  them.  When  the 
Outliers  loosed  their  slings  the  first  sound 
took  them  into  cover.  There  was  heard  the 
crack  of  the  sling  stones  followed  by  sharp 
groans,  but  by  the  time  our  men  got  down  to 
the  twisty  trees  there  was  not  a  spark  of  the 
Treasure  nor  one  of  the  Treasure  lifters.  They 
stumbled  on  some  of  the  Far- Folk  women  who 
had  lingered  to  wake  the  sleeping  children, 
and  took  them,  with  a  good  part  of  their  bag 
gage.  By  the  time  the  moon  came  up  there 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  of  either  party  but  one 
slim  body  of  a  lad,  with  his  back  broken, 
growing  cold  in  a  deep  cairn  of  stones. 

Persilope  moved  on  with  the  slingsmen  to 
keep  the  trail  of  the  Far-Folk  warm,  and 
Mancha,  who  preferred  the  work  that  prom 
ised  earliest  news  of  Zirriloe,  came  back  with 
the  captives  to  River  Ward. 

In  the  early  half  light,  as  they  traveled, 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  225 

they  were  aware  of  a  tall  woman  with  long 
hair  blowing,  who  came  and  stood  on  a  hill 
overlooking  them  for  long  enough  to  have 
counted  all  the  captives.  When  she  had  told 
them  over,  she  wrung  her  hands  and  bit  upon 
them,  and  vanished  into  the  morning  mist.  I 
supposed  it  must  have  been  Ravenutzi's  wife. 
She  was  still  looking  for  some  clue  of  him  and 
had  not  found  it. 

We  moved,  all  of  us,  from  Windy  Covers 
that  day  to  a  place  beyond  the  Ledge,  but  near 
enough  to  the  Gap  for  us  to  fall  back  upon 
our  own  country  if  need  arose.  That  night, 
before  Mancha  got  in  from  the  Smithy,  Her 
man  came  back  again.  It  was  the  pale  end  of 
night,  the  moon  was  gone  ghost  white,  and  the 
wind  was  awake  that  runs  before  the  dawn. 
I  was  lying  sleepless  in  my  bed  under  the 
buckthorn  when  I  heard  the  whisper  of  their 
arrival  on  the  far  side  of  the  camp. 

I  had  said  to  myself  that  I  owed  Herman  no 
welcome.  Though  there  was  no  personal  tie 
between  us,  there  was  in  our  common  condi 
tion  of  aliens  among  the  Outliers  an  obliga 
tion  to  look  out  for  me,  which  he  had  no  right 
to  neglect.  Here  was  I  left  to  he  knew  not 
what  pains  and  inconveniences  while  he  ran 


226  OUTLAND 

after  this  wild  girl  and  a  faithless,  dishonored 
man.  The  more  I  considered  this,  the  less  of 
satisfaction  it  brought  me.  For  whatever  the 
pitiableness  of  the  girl's  case,  and  I  felt  there 
might  be  something  in  that,  it  was  no  affair  of 
Herman's.  Why  should  he  set  himself  beside 
her  and  against  all  other  women  who  had  kept 
right  and  true,  by  what  pains  and  passionate 
renunciations  I  seemed  now  to  feel  myself 
seized  and  participated.  I  saw  myself  with 
the  others  affronted  by  any  excusing  of  Zir- 
riloe.  That  my  friend  should  so  excuse  her 
pointed  and  made  personal  the  offense. 

I  was  so  sure  of  this  resentment,  and  it  was 
so  palpable  a  barrier  in  my  own  mind  to  the 
renewal  of  intimacy,  that  when  Herman,  be 
fore  he  had  eaten  or  rested,  came  stealing 
among  the  stretched  figures,  I  could  not  imag 
ine  what  he  was  looking  for.  He  crept  with 
long,  stooping  pauses  where  an  arm  thrown 
up  or  a  drawn  cover  concealed  an  identity, 
until  he  came  to  where  I  lay,  wrapped  in  a 
cougar  skin  under  the  buckthorn.  Then  I 
knew  by  the  full  stop,  and  by  the  long  breath 
of  easement  after  strain  that  it  was  I  he 
wanted. 

He  sat  down  a  very  little  way  from  me,  on 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  227 

the  hillock  of  a  broken  pine.  Though  I  could 
not  see  his  eyes  in  that  light,  I  made  out  that 
his  face  was  turned  toward  me,  and  that  he 
leaned  it  upon  his  hand.  Whether  he  felt  some 
emanation  of  my  resentment  and  was  troubled 
by  it,  or  whether  from  weariness,  he  moved 
uneasily  and  sighed.  He  must  have  grown 
more  accustomed  to  the  dark  by  traveling  in 
it,  for  presently  he  reached  out  to  brush  light 
ly  some  small  twigs  and  leaves  that  had  fallen 
on  my  bed,  and  felt  or  saw  the  barely  percep 
tible  stir  I  made. 

"Mona?"  he  whispered. 

"Well?" 

"Did  I  wake  you?  I  did  not  mean  to.  Do 
you  wish  to  sleep  again?" 

"I  am  not  asleep." 

I  suppose  he  expected  some  question  which 
would  give  him  leave  to  begin  with  what  his 
mind  was  full  of,  but  I  had  already  heard  the 
whisper,  handed  from  bed  to  bed.  I  guessed 
what  ill  success  the  expedition  had,  and  I  had 
no  wish  to  hear  Herman's  part  in  it.  I  lay 
still  and  made  out  the  faint  movement  in  the 
leaves  of  the  buckthorn,  until,  by  the  slow 
clearing  of  the  dark,  I  could  see  the  droop  of 


228  OUTLAND 

his  figure  with  fatigue,  and  I  was  not  proof 
against  that. 

"You  are  very  tired ;  why  do  you  not  go  and 
lie  down?" 

"If  you  don't  mind  I  would  rather  talk." 

He  moved  over  nearer  and  seemed  to  get 
some  comfort  from  my  proximity,  for  he  be 
gan  without  any  further  encouragement. 

Herman,  he  said,  had  not  kept  close  to  the 
Outliers  but  with  Mancha  had  scouted  far  to 
the  left  in  the  hope  of  coming  on  some  trace 
of  the  Far- Folk's  secret  camp,  where  he  imag 
ined  Zirriloe  might  be  hid.  They  had  fol 
lowed  fruitlessly  on  faint  clues,  and  finally 
with  no  clues  at  all,  and  had  come  to  no  con 
clusion  except  that  the  fugitives  must  be  still 
on  the  Outlanders'  side  of  the  Ledge.  The 
track  had  gone  far  north  of  Windy  Covers 
and  there  was  no  other  passage  known  for  so 
great  a  distance  as  to  be  impracticable. 

"There  is  a  way,"  said  I. 

And  as  soon  as  I  had  said  it  I  was  overtaken 
with  a  swift  certainty.  This  secret  way  by 
which  Ravenutzi  and  the  girl  had  gone  must 
be  the  same  one  the  wife  had  come  through 
with  her  torn  hands,  venturing  so  much  to 
ease  her  need  of  him  by  talking  to  me.  I  was 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  229 

so  struck  by  the  idea  that,  by  just  the  time  she 
had  taken  to  wait  for  me  at  Windy  Covers  she 
had  missed  seeing  Ravenutzi  help  the  girl 
tenderly  over  that  same  trail,  that  I  began  at 
once  to  tell  Herman  about  it,  to  his  great 
amazement. 

"You  did  that,"  he  said;  "you  talked  to  her 
and  let  her  go,  knowing  what  harm  she  had  in 
her  mind  to  do?" 

"She  was  a  desperate  woman;  she  could 
have  killed  me  before  help  came  if  I  had 
given  the  alarm.  In  any  case,"  I  protested,  "I 
would  not  have  given  it,  because  she  trusted 
me.  But  no  harm  will  come  to  the  Outliers. 
This  is  a  private  quarrel." 

"That  poor  girl,"  he  said,  "if  she  should 
find  her!" 

"In  that  case,"  said  I,  "would  you  back 
Ravenutzi  to  back  his  wanton  or  his  wife?" 

"Mona — you  have  no  proof!" 

"You  said — the  day  she  came  out  of  the 
woods  by  Leaping  Water — that  she  was  the 
sort  to  do  anything  for  the  man  she  loved. 
Well— she  is  that  sort." 

"Mona!" 

"Perhaps  it  was  not  for  love  then.     You 


230  OUTLAND 

said  she  could  appreciate — things.  Perhaps 
Ravenutzi  promised  her  a— 

"Mona!  Mona!"  he  said,  with  so  sharp  an 
anguish  that  if  I  had  not  felt  I  owed  it  to  all 
honorable  women  to  show  him  where  he  stood, 
I  should  have  left  him  to  his  dear  illusion. 
Yet  to  see  him  so  excusing  treachery  for  the 
sake  of  a  tinted  cheek  or  the  way  a  wrist  was 
turned,  set  me  white  hot  and  throbbing. 

"Would  you  rather,"  I  said,  "she  had  done 
it  for  love,  or  for  the  King's  Desire?" 

I  could  not  see  his  face,  but  his  voice  was 
troubled  with  amazement. 

"Mona — I — I  was  not  prepared  for  this." 
It  was  too  dark  to  see,  but  I  guessed  the  pauses 
to  be  the  swallowings  of  his  throat.  "I  thought 
you  would  be  glad  to  have  me  go  to  that  poor 
girl  and  make  things  as  easy  for  her  as  I  could. 
You  never  seem  to  think  how  she  must  have 
suffered  before  she  came  to  this." 

"She  hid  it  well.  And  depend  upon  it,  Her 
man,  whatever  sufferings  a  woman  has  in  such 
a  case,  whatever  struggles,  they  are  toward 
the  thing  she  would  do,  not  away  from  it."  I 
do  not  know  how  I  knew  this,  but  the  moment 
I  had  spoken  I  was  quite  sure.  "If  she 
struggles,"  I  said,  "it  is  to  justify  her  right  to 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  231 

do  it,  to  quiet  compunction,  to  appease  her 
fears.  Zirriloe  came  to  the  end  too  quickly 
to  have  suffered  much." 

We  were  both  still  after  that,  while  the 
heavens  whitened  and  showed  me  a  little  of 
how  worn  he  was  and  what  marks  of  the  trail 
were  on  him.  I  suppose  he  must  have  felt  the 
melting  of  my  mood  toward  him,  for  pres 
ently  his  hand  stole  toward  me  and  began  to 
finger  the  loose  end  of  my  cougar  skin. 

"You  never  seem  to  think,  Mona" — he  hes 
itated — "what  this  might  mean  to  me." 

"Well,  what  does  it  mean?" 

I  tried,  I  think  I  tried,  not  to  make  my 
voice  sound  so  yielding  that  he  should  sup 
pose  me  softened  toward  the  shame  and  wrong 
of  it,  nor  so  hard  that  he  might  imagine  the 
hardness  grew  out  of  my  caring  what  it  meant 
to  him.  I  must  have  fallen  a  little  to  one  side 
or  the  other,  for  it  was  a  long  time  before  he 
began  again. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said,  "I  am  hardly  sure 
myself.  There  was  a  time  before  we  came  to 
Outland — how  long  ago  was  that,  Mona? — 
when  I  fell  short  of  much  that  you  said  and 
thought.  There  was  something  in  books  and 
poetry  and  music,  especially  in  music,  that  you 


232  OUTLAND 

were  always  expecting  me  to  understand,  and 
the  expectation  irritated  me.  I  fell  into  the 
way  of  denying  and  despising  that  something, 
and  trying — I  am  afraid  succeeding,  too,  in 
making  myself  feel  that  it  sprang  from  some 
superiority  in  me  not  to  understand.  .  .  .  Are 
you  listening,  Mona?" 

"Yes,  Herman." 

"It  was  not  that  I  felt  the  want  of  it  so  much 
in  myself,  but  other  people — you,  Mona— 
missed  it  in  me.  There  was  a  door  to  all  that, 
about  to  swing  upon  the  latch  .  .  .  and  I  could 
never  swing  it.  And  then  we  came  to  this  free 
life  .  .  .  and  Zirriloe.  .  .  .  Did  you  think  I 
was  in  love  with  her,  Mona?" 

"Were  you  in  love  with  her?" 

"I  don't  know  .  .  .  she  made  the  door  swing 
back  .  .  .  she  had  such  a  way  of  walking  .  .  . 
and  that  little  smile  of  hers  coming  and  going 
.  .  .  she  was  all  those  things  made  manifest. 
A  man  would  understand.  I  liked  to  do  things 
for  her.  It  was  a  way  of  serving  all  the  love 
liness  of  women  .  .  .  it  was  serving  you,  Mona 

"Ah,"  I  said,  "I  would  have  understood 
better  if  the  service  had  been  paid  in  person." 
"I  suppose  so." 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK          233 

He  was  both  humble  and  reluctant  in  his 
acknowledgment,  and  paused  so  long  a  time 
after  it  that  I  could  mark  the  ebb  of  the  dark 
from  the  highest  hills  and  the  full  slopes 
emerging  rounded  with  verdure.  But  I  found 
I  had  nothing  to  say  to  him  in  all  this,  and 
perhaps  he  expected  nothing. 

"If  she  could  have  stayed  so  .  .  ...  "  he  began 
again,  "as  long  as  she  stayed  so,  I  could  feel 
.  .  .  what  was  it  you  used  to  say?  .  .  .  the 
roll  of  the  world  eastward.  .  .  .  But  to  have 
it  end  like  this  .  .  .in  meanness  and  betrayal 
...  I  wish  I  might  have  brought  her  back 
with  me!" 

"Better  that  you  did  not,  considering  what 
she  would  come  back  to  meet.  If  she 
loved  Ravenutzi  she  is  having  her  happiness 
now.  If  she  suffers  at  all  it  is  not  for  what 
she  has  done  but  for  what  you  may  think  of 
it.  And  if  there  is  any  deep-felt  misery  going 
on  in  this  anywhere,  it  is  on  the  part  of  Rave- 
nutzi's  wife." 

"Ah,  I  had  forgotten  there  was  a  wife." 

I  meant  he  should  not  forget,  nor  lose  for 
that  shallow  girl  any  of  the  deeper  oppro- 
briousness  that  should  attach  to  the  double 
betrayal.  But  I  was  taken  by  surprise  to  have 


234  OUTLAND 

him  turned  by  that  suggestion  quite  in  another 
direction. 

"A  desperate  woman,  by  your  account  of 
her,"  he  said.  "Promise  me,  Mona,  that  you 
will  not  hold  any  further  communication  with 
her,  and  that  you  will  not  go  out  of  the  camp 
without  an  escort.  It  isn't  safe,  and  it  isn't 
quite  fair,  is  it,  to  parley  with  the  enemies  of 
the  Outliers?" 

If  he  had  stopped  with  the  consideration 
of  my  safety,  I  should  probably  have  con 
sented  meekly  like  any  woman  when  any  man 
takes  an  interest  in  her,  but  that  suggestion  of 
unfairness  set  me  at  odds  again. 

"I  shall  not  do  anything  imprudent,"  I 
said ;  "but  as  to  the  relation  of  my  behavior  to 
the  Outliers,  that  is  a  matter  which  you  must 
leave  me  to  decide  for  myself." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Herman  ruefully.  "I 
beg  your  pardon.  I  don't  know  how  it  is, 
Mona,  I  let  other  women  do  pretty  much  as 
they  like  with  me,  but  I  always  find  myself 
getting  irritated  if  you  don't  do  exactly  as  I 
say." 

I  was  certain  Herman  had  never  said  any 
thing  like  this  to  me  before,  yet  it  had  so 
familiar  a  ring  to  it  that  I  found  myself  going 


HERMAN  COMES  BACK  235 

back  in  my  mind  for  the  association.  I  re 
called  what  Evarra  said  when  she  asked  if 
Herman  was  in  love  with  me,  that  if  such 
were  the  case  he  would  expect  me  to  do  as  he 
said.  I  was  so  taken  up  with  this  possibility 
that  I  heard  not  too  attentively  the  far  cry  of 
coyotes  going  by.  There  must  have  been  some 
nuance  in  it  not  of  the  beasts'  cry,  for  the  Out 
liers  began  springing  up  around  us,  listening 
and  intent.  It  came  again  and  one  answered 
it.  By  such  signs  we  were  made  aware  it  was 
Mancha  returning  from  the  Smithy. 


XII 

HOW  AN  OUTLIER  SAW  A  TALL  WOMAN  FOL 
LOWING  A  TRAIL  AND  MANCHA  MET  THE 
SMITH  AGAIN 

1HAVE  no  notion  how  long  we  lay  in  the 
neighborhood  of  River  Ward.  By  this 
time  we  had  lost  all  track  of  the  calen 
dar,  Herman  and  I,  and  the  Outliers 
had  none  except  the  orderly  procession  of  the 
season's  bloom  and  fruit  and  mating  time. 
Great  umbrageous  clouds  came  up  behind  the 
hills  and  were  cut  down  by  the  wind.  Clear 
days  succeeded  one  another,  matched  so  per 
fectly  for  warmth  and  color  that  the  conscious 
ness  took  no  account  of  the  dividing  nights. 
Crowns  of  foothills  lying  seaward  showed 
increasing  green  and  then  faint  flecks  of 
poppy  color.  These  were  our  quietest  days, 
for  though  there  was  fighting  and  following, 
Herman  and  I  had  no  active  part  in  it.  Con 
sider  how  few  we  were  in  a  great  land,  and  no 

236 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    237 

trumpeting,  no  shock  of  guns,  no  daily  bul 
letin.  Ten  men  would  set  out  on  the  mere 
stirring  of  an  animal  sense  that  beyond  a  cer 
tain  hill  or  in  a  known  hollow  lurked  the 
breeders  of  offense.  And  then  no  news  of  them 
except  as  they  came  or  did  not  come  again. 
Companies  of  Far-Folk  and  Outliers  would 
fence  all  day  each  to  come  at  the  other  unsus 
pected:  flights  and  evasions  and  sharp  en 
counters  took  place  in  such  deeps  of  leafage 
as  dulled  all  sound.  All  this  was  covered, 
swept  over  as  carefully  as  the  wild  creature 
hides  its  ways. 

Often  now,  walking  on  the  tawny-colored 
hill  that  sleeps  above  the  bay  with  the  Mission 
between  its  paws,  I  look  back  at  the  warm- 
tinted  slopes,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  en 
croaching  fogs,  and  wonder  under  what  peaks, 
between  what  long  blue  ranges  we  lay  that 
season.  What  tumult  and  warfare  goes  on  in 
those  still  spaces  unregarded?  But  we  have 
never,  as  I  said  in  the  beginning,  got  any 
nearer  to  it  than  Broken  Tree. 

The  Outliers  stuck  to  the  track  of  the  Far- 
Folk,  and  had  so  much  the  better  of  them  in 
readiness  and  organization  that  before  long 
they  had  captured  the  most  of  their  women. 


238  OUTLAND 

Under  Mancha  our  men  had  sought  out  their 
homes,  abandoned  so  hurriedly,  in  the  shallow, 
brush-grown  canons,  and  had  burned  and 
broken  what  they  found.  That  Ravenutzi  had 
joined  the  Far-Folk  we  knew,  for  once  when 
they  had  come  to  parley  over  a  wounded  man, 
they  saw  the  hostage  at  Oca's  back  directing 
the  Council  by  such  knowledge  of  the  Outliers 
as  he  had  acquired  by  long  residence*  Oca 
blew  out  his  long  beard,  laughing  as  he 
listened. 

I  knew  too  from  one  of  the  captive  women, 
that  he  still  concealed  from  his  wife  the  place 
where  he  had  hidden  the  Ward.  The  expla 
nation  Ravenutzi  had  given  to  Oca  of  the  use 
he  should  make  of  Zirriloe's  person  in  the 
game  that  was  yet  to  be  played,  set  that  chief 
chuckling  in  his  beard  like  a  cataract. 

But  to  his  wife  Ravenutzi  had  denied  seri 
ousness:  laughed,  kissed  her  burned  throat, 
blinded,  bound  her  with  an  ingenuity  of 
charm  and  tenderness  until  she  grew  tame  un 
der  his  hand.  Then  she  would  rage  the  more 
bitterly  when  he  was  away,  suspecting  him 
with  the  girl  in  hiding;  flaming  with  jealousy 
until  his  return  found  her  burned  out,  white 
and  faint,  creeping  humbly  to  his  caress. 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN*   239 

This,  I  say,  I  had  from  one  of  the  captives, 
for  I  talked  of  her  to  the  Outliers  only  with 
Trastevera.  I  think  the  woman's  story  was 
known  to  them.  She  was  seen  often  flitting 
from  some  post  of  observation  when  they  came 
with  prisoners,  and  though  it  was  certain  she 
had  been  twice  inside  the  Ledge  seeking  the 
place  where  Zirriloe  lay  hidden,  no  motion 
was  made  to  take  her.  They  judged  her  no 
doubt  hunted  by  a  more  remorseless  enemy; 
the  same  that  drove  on  Mancha's  trail  and 
wasted  him  in  the  night.  It  was  strange  to 
me  at  first  when  I  looked  on  the  Hammerer's 
passion-hollowed  face,  to  see  how  it  was  con 
tradicted  by  the  youthful  fuzziness  of  his 
blond  hair  and  the  round  stalwartness  of  his 
frame,  until  I  realized  that  he  tried  to  make 
his  body  what  his  hammer  was,  the  instrument 
of  his  satisfaction,  and  nursed  it  carefully  to 
that  end.  But  here  the  invisible  enemy  had 
him  at  point.  Eat  he  could,  and  bathe,  and 
exercise  himself  and  rough  the  handle  of  his 
hammer  to  his  grasp,  and  tighten  the  thongs. 
But  in  the  night  sleep  and  jealousy  contended, 
and  he  turned  in  his  bed  and  set  his  teeth  upon 
his  hands.  His  eyes  reddened  at  the  lids,  and 
when  he  would  be  sitting  among  us,  his  at- 


240  OUTLAND 

tention  would  be  forever  wandering,  and 
there  would  be  a  half  inadvertent  movement 
of  those  same  hands  as  if  to  rend  and  tear.  It 
was  plain  that  he  came  but  half  out  of  some 
burning  preoccupation  to  attend  to  whatever 
his  men  brought  to  his  notice,  and  slipped 
back  into  it  even  between  the  utterance  of  two 
words,  like  a  drowned  insect  in  a  glass.  He 
was  seldom  at  River  Ward,  seeming  easier  to 
be  on  the  trail  and  in  action.  That  there  was 
only  one  trail  that  interested  him  was  per 
fectly  evident.  He  cared  nothing  whatever 
for  the  recovery  of  the  Treasure  if  only  he 
might  get  at  Ravenutzi  and  find  where  the 
Ward  was  hidden.  And  as  often  as  Outliers 
and  Far-Folk  came  together  in  running  fights, 
his  men  fell  apart  tacitly  to  afford  him  the 
craved-for  opportunity.  As  we  knew  aft 
erward,  by  Oca's  express  direction,  the  Far- 
Folk  closed  round  the  smith  to  oppose  him. 
As  often  as  Mancha  came  back  unslaked,  his 
new  whetted  fury  turned  on  himself.  Bitter 
as  these  frustrated  encounters  were,  they  were 
less  so  than  those  times  when  they  surprised 
their  enemy  and  found  Ravenutzi  not  with 
them.  Where  was  he  then  but  lingering  in 
some  shut  quarter  with  the  Ward!  One  would 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    241 

know  that  this  had  occurred  when  the  Ham 
merer  sat  upon  the  edges  of  his  bed  the  night 
long  goading  himself  with  recollections. 

"Give  over;  give  up,"  cried  Trastevera  to 
him.  "She  never  thought  of  you;  and  what 
do  you  but  suck  poison  from  the  thought  of 
her?" 

"And  what,"  said  he,  "shall  I  think  of,  if 
I  do  not  think  of  her?  Do  you  advise  me  to 
think  of  him?" 

"Think  of  your  work,  how  you  are  to  win 
back  the  King's  Desire  for  us." 

"And  how  shall  I  think  to  win  the  King's 
Desire  and  not  think  of  how  it  was  lost?"  And 
so  having  worked  round  in  a  circle  again  he 
did  think  of  it;  what  looks  and  sighs  and  woo 
ing  touches  had  gone  to  that  betrayal. 

"If  I  could  get  at  him,"  he  cried,  "if  I  could 
only  get  at  him" ;  and  groaned  and  struck  with 
his  stone  hammer  deep  into  the  soft  earth. 

It  was  difficult  for  Trastevera,  who  alone 
partook  of  his  stormy  confidences,  to  be  pa 
tient  with  his  consuming  thought,  since  she 
was  herself  the  happier,  free  of  the  obsession 
of  Ravenutzi.  For  the  Outliers  remembered 
now  how  she  had  been  against  him  in  the  be 
ginning,  and  blamed  themselves  for  overrid- 


242  OUTLAND 

ing  with  their  weighty  reasons  that  delicate 
presentiment.  Warmed  by  this  support,  all 
her  power  of  foreseeing  put  forth  again  and 
promised  them  success.  She  burned  with  fore 
knowledge  that  kept  time  like  a  poised  and 
constant  needle  with  what  went  on  afar  be 
hind  wooded  hills  and  in  secret  valleys.  Often 
as  we  lay  in  the  chaparral  and  heard  the  bees 
fumble  at  the  flagons  of  the  wild  currant,  and 
saw  the  young  rabbits  rising  to  drink  deli 
cately  of  dew  in  the  shallow  cup  of  leaves,  she 
would  start  up  bright  and  hot,  sniffing  battle. 
As  she  drooped  and  grieved,  or  snatches  of 
triumphant  song  burst  from  her,  we  guessed 
what  went  on  between  our  men  and  Oca's  a 
day's  journey  south  and  west. 

It  was  in  that  quarter  they  defended  them 
selves  for  as  long  as  enjoyment  of  the  King's 
Desire  exceeded  all  other  considerations.  It 
was  a  region  of  high  hills,  set  close,  well  cov 
ered;  narrow  canons  choked  with  chaparral; 
rain-fed  springs,  trailless  steep  barrancas. 
Here  they  kept  like  foxes,  quick  and  slinking, 
and  the  Outliers  hunted  them,  not  often  with 
success.  The  cover  was  too  thick  for  slings, 
and  the  ways  too  steep  to  give  free  play  with 
the  hammers.  The  enemy  showed  themselves 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    243 

and  ran,  involving  the  Outliers  in  a  maze 
of  blind  gullies,  and  came  out  unscathed  and 
mocking  on  hills  above  them.  They  made 
elaborate  false  clues  and  set  traps  which  at  the 
last  moment  they  wanted  the  courage  to 
spring,  but  never  came  to  any  open  issue  be 
cause  of  the  King's  Desire.  They  had  the 
Treasure  in  hand  at  last,  and  could  not  be  per 
suaded  to  leave  it.  Where  it  was  they  hung 
like  flies  at  a  honey-pot.  You  could  never 
find  the  Far-Folk  very  far  nor  very  long  from 
one  another.  They  would  have  out  the  jewels 
and  gloated  upon  them,  tracing  the  patterns, 
holding  them  this  way  and  that  to  catch  the 
light,  tried  on  the  collars  and  the  armlets, 
pranked  in  the  crowns,  fed  upon  the  mere 
sight  of  them  as  an  antidote  to  defeat.  All 
this  was  very  well  for  a  time,  but  the  drawing 
of  their  forces  together  about  the  King's  De 
sire  served  their  enemies  more  than  it  served 
them.  Threescore  men  in  a  camp  were  easier 
hunted  than  two  or  three.  By  keeping  in  close 
order  they  left  betraying  traces  in  the  forest, 
and  brought  down  Mancha's  hammerers.  To 
avoid  this  they  made  longer  flights,  swift,  un- 
calculated  leaps.  Their  women  and  children, 
unable  to  keep  up  with  them,  were  gathered  in 


244  OUTLAND 

by  the  Outliers  and  carried  to  River  Ward. 
It  began  to  appear  that  they  must  make  tem 
porary  disposition  of  their  trove  until  they 
had  possession  of  their  families  again,  and 
could  make  off  with  both  into  that  wooded 
country  south  where  there  were  no  man  traces 
and  no  Outliers  could  come. 

They  buried  the  Treasure  once,  and  then 
the  whole  party  sat  upon  the  place  like  brood 
ing  quail,  and  betrayed  it  by  their  guarding. 
So  they  had  it  up  again,  and  Ravenutzi  and 
Oca  made  a  plan  between  them.  They  were 
to  send  the  jewels  on  south  under  convoy, 
then  by  means  of  the  person  of  the  Ward  they 
were  to  draw  Mancha  off  from  River  Ward. 
Then  with  a  free  field  left  the  main  body  of 
the  Far-Folk  were  to  raid  the  camp  at  River 
Ward  and  recapture  their  women. 

This  was  the  plan :  An  old  man  was  to  have 
himself  captured  by  Mancha's  men  in  order  to 
convey  to  the  women  news  of  the  rescue  wait 
ing  them.  The  Ward,  who  lay  still  in  some 
secret  place  of  Ravenutzi's  contriving,  was  to 
be  brought  up  to  that  quarter  where  it  was  to 
their  advantage  to  have  Mancha  get  word  of 
her.  A  good  plan,  and  worthy  of  the  smith 
who  planned  it.  It  was  well  agreed  to  except 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    245 

in  one  point.  No  one  of  them  trusted  another 
one  to  take  away  the  Treasure.  So  after  much 
argument  they  fell  upon  the  notion  of  dividing 
it.  It  was  evident  that  as  long  as  it  remained  in 
the  common  custody,  no  man  was  free  to  fight 
and  run,  according  to  his  fighting  humor  or 
his  chances.  But  give  every  man  his  own  to 
carry  about  with  him  and  he  would  know 
what  he  was  fighting  for,  not  with  one  eye 
over  his  shoulder  to  see  how  the  common  ob 
ject  fared.  Good  logic  and  sound,  answering 
in  many  a  better  case ;  singularly  not  in  this. 
Settling  on  a  division  of  the  King's  Desire 
proved  a  much  easier  matter  than  dividing  it. 
They  were  two  days  wrangling  over  the  man 
ner  of  the  division,  and  another  trading  and 
bargaining  and  matching  lots  among  them 
selves.  Then  followed  the  period  of  inaction, 
planned  to  give  the  Outliers  the  impression 
that  they  had  withdrawn  from  that  part  of  the 
country.  The  next  move  was  to  have  the 
Mancha  sent  seeking  in  the  direction  where  it 
was  to  be  made  known  through  the  captives 
the  Ward  was  to  be  found.  Ravenutzi  had 
gone  to  prepare  her  for  her  part  in  it.  Poor 
child,  if  it  were  willingly  or  not,  if  she  con- 


246  OUTLAND 

sented  at  all,  or  even  if  she  had  any  clear  idea 
what  was  required  of  her,  who  can  say? 

In  the  meantime  there  were  the  Far-Folk 
lying  separate,  very  quiet,  every  man  with  his 
treasure  in  his  bosom  to  finger  and  fondle, 
with  the  south  open  before  him  and  the  spring 
coming  on  by  leaps  and  bounds.  Everywhere 
there  were  the  smell  of  sap,  the  mating  cry  of 
quail  and  poppy  fires  kindling  seaward;  not 
much  to  put  the  fighting  humor  in  a  man. 

But  the  Outliers  were  not  quite  in  the  same 
case.  They  were  wronged,  robbed,  betrayed, 
they  distrusted  every  move  of  their  enemies, 
kept  watches  out.  From  the  meeting  of  the 
river  and  the  Ledge  to  the  Gap,  where  the  dip 
of  the  ranges  east  began,  there  was  a  line  of 
solitary  outposts,  patrolling  all  the  passages. 
While  the  Far-Folk  played  fox  in  the  thorny 
covers  south,  there  was  in  reality  a  stopped 
earth  between  them  and  their  women  and  the 
places  they  had  known. 

The  posts  beat  eastward  half  a  day  each 
from  his  own  station  to  the  next  and  back. 
One  of  these,  going  as  still  as  a  snake,  saw  a 
tall  woman  with  long,  coiling  hair  wrapped 
about  her  body,  wasted  and  lovely,  following 
a  track  in  the  woods.  She  followed  so  patient- 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    247 

ly,  and  with  so  much  intention  and  such  sure- 
ness,  poring  above  it  as  though  every  foot 
print  stabbed  her  and  she  hugged  the  stabbing 
to  her  breast;  urged  forward  on  it  with  such 
anguished  purpose,  held  back  from  it  by  such 
torturing  fears!  Who  else  but  a  jealous  wo 
man  follows  in  such  fashion  on  the  trail  of  the 
man  she  loves?  The  Outlier  counted  himself 
a  poor  guesser  if  this  were  not  Ravenutzi's 
wife  following  Ravenutzi.  He  followed,  too, 
at  a  discreet  distance.  He  might,  perhaps, 
have  come  alongside  her  without  attracting 
her  attention,  so  intently  was  it  fixed  upon 
what  lay  before  her,  what  she  could  not 
withhold  herself  from  seeking,  and  was  afraid 
to  find.  Now  she  hurried  on  with  a  kind  of 
fury  of  discernment.  Now  she  turned  aside 
to  compose  her  anguished  bosom  the  better 
to  read  its  traces  where  the  trail  looped  and 
turned  to  baffle  and  bewilder.  He  followed. 
Trees  gave  place  to  scrub,  and  that  to  knee- 
high  chaparral,  and  that  to  open  hill  crowns 
and  broken  stony  ledges.  Here  he  must  skulk 
behind  hills  and  at  a  considerable  distance, 
because  of  the  betraying  openness.  Presently 
he  lost  her.  He  had  made  sure  that  she  was 
headed  for  a  certain  sag  in  the  crest  of  a  hill, 


248  OUTLAND 

and  that  by  coming  around  the  brow  of  an 
other  one  he  would  have  full  sight  of  her 
again,  that  he  was  astounded  and  chagrined 
to  discover,  as  it  seemed,  that  she  had  sunk 
into  the  earth.  There  was  no  cover  and  no 
woman.  Below  him  lay  a  slight  hollow  full 
of  loose  boulders.  Toward  this  the  trail,  if 
trail  there  was,  must  have  led,  and  he  would 
have  hurried  on  except  for  being  so  sure  she 
had  not  had  time  to  make  it.  He  lay  still 
where  he  was,  under  the  jut  of  a  bald  hill,  and 
considered. 

Presently  he  saw  a  fox  come  out  of  its  hole 
on  the  opposite  side  and  begin  to  trot  across 
the  hollow;  it  started  between  tall  boulders, 
but  swerved,  went  sidewise,  muzzle  pointed 
with  suspicion.  Within  the  ring  of  boulders 
then  lay  something  that  was  neither  stick  nor 
stone.  From  his  post  the  watcher  could  not 
say  very  well  what  it  was  until  the  shadows 
had  shrunk  by  about  an  hour.  And  then  he 
saw  the  woman.  She  lay  flat,  face  downward, 
waiting. 

"If  you  wait,  my  girl,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"it  is  because  he  you  follow  is  at  the  end  of 
his  trail  and  returns  upon  it  soon." 

The  Outlier  saw  the  tortured  woman  writh- 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    249 

ing  with  impatience,  saw  the  shadows  shorten 
toward  noon,  and  crows  flying  over,  and  then 
he  saw  Ravenutzi.  The  smith  came  over  the 
sag  of  the  hills,  walking  steadily,  with  appar 
ently  nothing  on  his  mind  but  to  get  on  to  the 
place  where  he  was  going.  He  passed  the 
woman  lying  among  the  boulders.  The  Out 
lier  saw  her  crowding  her  face  in  the  dust  as 
he  went  by,  as  if  she  feared  she  must  have 
cried  out  and  run  to  him  if  she  had  looked. 
He  passed  the  hill  where  the  watcher  lay,  and 
struck  into  his  former  trail,  deeply  cogitating, 
looking  neither  down  nor  about  to  discover  if 
he  had  been  followed.  When  the  smith  was 
quite  out  of  the  hollow  the  woman  rose  and 
ran  the  way  he  had  come,  and  the  watcher 
considered.  He  thought  most  likely  the  Ward 
was  at  the  end  of  that  trail,  but  he  had  no  par 
ticular  interest  in  her,  it  was  Ravenutzi  who 
bred  mischief  and  must  be  looked  after.  Ac 
cordingly  he  kept  the  smith  in  sight.  As  they 
passed  the  neighborhood  of  River  Ward  go 
ing  back,  the  Outlier  whistled  one  of  his  fel 
lows  out  of  the  wood  and  sent  word  to 
Mancha. 

That  was  how  it  happened  when  the  Far- 
Folk  came  together  to  have  their  last  direction 


250  OUTLAND 

from  the  smith,  that  there  was  an  Outlier 
tracked  him  quite  to  that  place.  Behind  him, 
following  a  slot  of  bent  twigs  and  broken 
leaves,  were  Prassade  and  Persilope  with  the 
slingsmen  and  Mancha  with  the  hammerers. 

It  was  late  of  the  afternoon  and  the  light 
low  enough  to  dazzle  in  the  eyes.  The  place 
was  rather  level  and  open,  with  thin-branched 
pines  and  scant  fern;  behind  it  a  sharp  hill 
breaking  abruptly.  Oca  sat  below  the  hill 
where  a  glade  opened,  and  the  thick  locks  of 
his  beard,  heavy  and  waved  like  sculptor's 
work,  were  gathered  in  his  hand.  He  had  on 
his  head  the  circlet  of  fire  stones  that  gleamed 
as  he  turned,  red,  blue  and  green  like  some 
strange  insect's  eyes.  His  body  was  half  bare 
and  his  arms  from  the  elbow  up  were  banded 
with  circles  of  beaten  gold.  The  smith  whis 
pered  behind  him,  and  as  the  chief  nodded, 
the  eyes  of  his  circlet  changed  from  blue  to 
green  and  red  again  as  though  they  took  their 
color  from  his  thought. 

Around  stood  the  Far-Folk,  eager,  pleased 
with  themselves,  more  interested  in  the  cun 
ning  of  their  scheme  than  anxious  over  its 
success,  making  the  necklets  and  armlets  to 
shine  on  their  dark  skins.  They  laughed, 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    251 

boasting  together  like  boys,  then  crowding  one 
another  to  stillness  to  hear  what  went  on 
among  the  leaders  debating  round  Oca  with 
some  show  of  order.  Half  girt  they  stood, 
pluming  themselves  upon  the  morrow,  the 
ring  of  unguarded  backs  turned  outward. 
And  in  the  midst  of  this  came  a  sharp  winging 
like  the  flight  of  birds — but  no  birds  so  swift— 
and  a  heavy  pelting  as  of  hail — but  no  hail 
tapped  so  loudly  on  the  trees  or  thudded  so 
sickeningly  on  human  flesh.  The  outer  ring 
of  the  Far-Folk  surged  toward  the  middle 
and  there  was  a  rush  of  those  within  outward, 
and  then  the  pleasant  wood  was  full  of  racing 
figures  and  hurtling  noises. 

It  had  come  so  quickly  and  from  so  many 
quarters,  the  light  shining  so  low  took  the 
Far- Folk  so  squarely  in  the  eyes,  that  the  best 
men  of  them  must  have  known  from  the  be 
ginning  what  the  end  was  to  be.  After  the 
first  scattering  rush  they  formed  a  ring  about 
Oca  and  Ravenutzi,  and  then  the  curse  of  the 
King's  Desire  began  to  work.  Standing  so  in 
close  order  they  made  a  better  mark  for  the 
pelting  of  the  slings.  Such  punishment  as 
they  had  from  the  slingsmen  was  not  to  be  en 
dured.  Had  they  had  any  reason  for  keeping 


252  OUTLAND 

their  close  order,  they  might  by  sheer  weight 
have  broken  through  the  ranks  of  the  Outliers, 
thinned  to  enclose  them.  But  they  had  broken 
up  the  Treasure  and  had  no  other  motive  for 
holding  together;  they  broke  scattering,  and 
Mancha's  men  dealt  with  them  singly  as  they 
came.  There  was  heard  the  rapping  of  the 
slings,  like  the  snapping  of  coals  in  the  fire, 
and  after  the  slings  left  off  the  hammers  be 
gan. 

Always  as  the  ring  about  Oca  melted  into 
the  scuffle  and  disorder  of  the  fight,  the  Out 
liers  followed  the  shine  of  Mancha's  hair  as 
he  ate  like  flame  through  the  ranks  toward 
Ravenutzi. 

I  suppose  the  smith  saw  him  come  and 
saved  himself  for  what  was  before  him;  at 
least  no  man  saw  him  strike  a  blow  until  his 
time  came.  The  Far-Folk  had  edged  the  old 
king  forward  through  the  press,  keeping  to 
ward  a  clear  canon  down  which  they  hoped 
to  get  away.  But  at  the  last  Oca  saw  a  son 
of  his  lifted  high  in  Noche's  arms,  one  hand 
cast  up  like  a  crest,  squealing  with  anguish. 
Back  the  old  chief  leaped,  avoiding  the  whirl 
ing  hammers,  leaving  the  smith  uncovered. 
Oca's  men  rushed  to  defend  him,  and  Man- 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    253 

cha's,  wheeling  to  prevent  it,  carried  the  fight 
to  another  quarter.  The  sound  of  the  struggle 
receded  from  Mancha's  ears,  filled  with  the 
rushing  of  his  own  blood  as  he  came  face  to 
face  with  Ravenutzi. 

When  the  fighting  mass  cleared  away  and 
left  them  so  confronting  one  another,  the  ad 
vantage  seems  to  have  been  all  to  the  smith. 
He  was  unwinded  and  wary.  Mancha  was 
hot  and  driven,  hate  rocked  him  where  he 
stood  like  drunkenness. 

They  looked  each  upon  the  other  for  two  or 
three  short  breaths,  and  Ravenutzi  took  a 
slight  step  backward.  It  was  In  reality  to 
bring  him  in  a  better  position  with  the  light, 
but  Mancha  mistook  it  for  flinching.  With 
a  cry  he  rushed  upon  him,  whirling  his  stone 
hammer.  The  smith  parried  and  thrust. 

The  hammer  struck  glancing,  the  smith 
reeled  from  it  and  dropped  his  pike.  Mancha 
threw  away  his  weapon  and  took  the  swaying 
body  in  his  arms.  He  was  head  and  shoulders 
shorter,  but  the  lift  of  his  back  was  tremen 
dous,  and  Ravenutzi  was  dizzy  from  the  blow. 
Mancha  had  him  down.  The  long  legs  and 
arms  of  the  smith  clung  and  bound  him;  they 
were  down  together  and  up  again  and  down, 


254  OUTLAND 

rolling  and  writhing,  as  they  turned  in  a  heap. 
Mancha  was  aware  of  one  of  the  Far-Folk 
running  toward  them  frothed  with  rage, 
weapon  lifted,  but  he  would  not  loosen  his 
hold  nor  look  away  from  Ravenutzi.  He  ex 
pected  a  blow  from  behind,  and  then  he  heard 
the  shock  of  men  coming  together  that  told 
him  how  the  blow  was  intercepted.  He  had 
the  smith  down  now  and  under  him,  and 
struggled  to  loose  the  binding  arms.  He  heard 
a  voice  calling:  "Mancha!  Mancha!"  and 
thought  it  was  the  voice  of  Lianth.  Too  young 
to  come  to  battle,  the  boy  had  been  allowed  by 
Mancha's  friendship  to  run  between  the  creek 
and  the  fighting  men  to  bring  stones,  as  they 
might  be  needed,  to  the  slingsmen.  Once  he 
had  heard  the  whistling  of  the  slings,  the  lad 
had  come  bounding  like  an  unbroke  hound  to 
bay  around  the  skirts  of  the  fight. 

"Mancha!  Mancha!"  said  the  voice,  "I 
have  him.  He  shall  not  get  you." 

"Good  lad!"  said  Mancha,  but  he  would 
not  look  away  from  the  smith's  eyes  lest  he 
should  lose  the  hint  of  motion  in  them. 

"Mancha,  Mancha,  I  am  hurt."  He  heard 
the  sounds  of  mortal  agony  in  the  fern,  but 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    255 

they  were  not  louder  to  him  than  the  coming 
and  going  of  his  own  breath. 

"Hold  him,"  he  said  to  the  voice  behind 
him.  He  had  his  knee  on  the  pit  of  the  smith's 
stomach  and  the  arms  were  loosening. 

"Mancha!" — the  voice  was  nearer — "he  is 
dragging  me.  I  cannot— 

Mancha  had  one  of  Ravenutzi's  arms  twist 
ed  under  the  smith's  own  body  and  his  own 
hand  at  the  smith's  throat. 

"Mancha!  Mane "  The  voice  broke 

with  a  bubbling  sound. 

He  had  the  smith's  windpipe  under  his 
thumb,  he  was  shaking  him  and  grinding  his 
head  into  the  earth.  A  hand  from  behind 
clutched  upon  his  heel.  He  kicked  out  and 
heard  a  wet  cough,  followed  by  a  groan,  but 
he  could  not  turn  to  see  what  came  of  it.  He 
shook  and  wried  the  smith's  head  as  it  black 
ened  under  his  hand. 

"Where  is  she?  Tell  me  where  she  is,"  he 
cried,  short  and  gaspingly.  With  every  repe 
tition  of  the  word  he  lifted  the  smith's  head 
and  ground  it  into  the  earth.  He  saw  surren 
der  in  the  bitten  tongue  and  the  protruding 
eyes.  He  rested  a  little,  but  as  yet  he  would 


256  OUTLAND 

not  spare  the  time  to  look  behind  him.  Rav- 
enutzi  came  slowly  back  to  consciousness. 

"Tell  me  where  she  is."  The  answer  came 
thickly. 

"Far  from  here." 

"Where,  where—  There  was  a  motion 

of  the  choking  and  grinding  to  begin  again. 

"How  can  I  tell  you?  ...  in  a  place  known 
only  to  me." 

"If  I  let  you  up  will  you  take  me  to  it?" 

"Breath,"  said  Ravenutzi,  "give  me 
breath." 

Mancha  let  his  throat  be  while  he  bound 
the  man's  arms. 

"Do  you  promise,  smith?" 

"What  is  that  across  my  feet?" 

"A  dead  man,  I  think."  Mancha  glanced 
slightingly  over  his  shoulder. 

"Where  is  my  king?" 

"Prassade  has  taken  him." 

"And  my  friends?" 

"One  of  them  is  across  your  feet;  a  lad  of 
mine  killed  him.  I  do  not  know  where  the 
others  are,  it  is  some  moments  since  I  heard 
fighting." 

"It  is  all  to  you,  then?" 

"All  to  us  ...  you  dog  ., :.  .  if  I  let  you  up 


AN  OUTLIER  AND  A  TALL  WOMAN    257 

...  *'/  ...  will  you  take  me  ...  where 
she  is?" 

"I  will  take  you." 

But  it  was  not  until  Mancha  had  bound  and 
rebound  him  that  he  left  the  smith  to  go  and 
turn  over  the  stiffening  body  of  Lianth  and 
wipe  the  bloody  froth  from  his  lips. 


XIII 

HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES,  AND  THE 
SMITH'S  ACCOUNT  OF  HIMSELF 

NEWS  of  the  fight  reached  River 
Ward  before  midnight,  but  before 
that,  about  dusk,  we  heard  Traste- 
vera  singing,  walking  up  and  down 
on  a  low  hill  scented  and  white  with  gilias, 
hymning  of  victory.  And  after  I  had  lain 
down  in  my  accustomed  place  I  heard  the 
women  all  about  me,  fevered  with  expecta 
tion,  rising  to  intimations  of  approach  too 
fine  for  me.  From  that  part  of  the  camp 
where  the  women  of  the  Far- Folk  slept,  there 
arose  now  and  then  some  sharp  accent  of  dis 
may  and  grief,  succeeded  by  the  nearly  mortal 
dejection  of  defeat.  Unable  at  last  to  bear  the 
night  so  full  of  noises  and  suspense,  I  rose  and 
walked  to  the  edge  of  the  wide,  bushgrown 
shallow  where  the  Outliers  were  camped  and 
met  Herman  coming  to  find  me. 

258 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     259 

"Do  not  go  where  the  women  are,"  he  said; 
"the  wounded  are  there,  and  besides,  they  do 


not  want  us." 


Very  softly  we  skirted  the  edge  of  the  swale 
and  climbed  to  the  foot  of  a  knoll  overlooking 
it.  Some  oaks  grew  here,  and  the  prostrate 
trunks  were  strong  to  lean  against.  The  moon 
was  gone  on  her  last  quarter,  and  the  figures 
of  men  moving  in  the  swale  were  large  and 
vague  against  it.  There  was  a  wind  stirring 
that  kept  up  a  whimpering  whisper  in  the  tops 
of  the  chaparral,  It  took  the  voices  as  they 
rose  through  it  and  rounded  them  to  indis 
tinctness;  only  by  listening  attentively  could 
we  distinguish  between  the  acclamations  of 
victory  and  cries  of  loss  and  pain. 

"But  tell  me,"  I  insisted  to  Herman,  "you 
have  been  among  the  men,  have  they  brought 
back  the  King's  Desire?" 

"Look,"  he  said,  "at  that  man  moving  there 
as  he  turns  against  the  moon;  do  you  see  the 
line  of  light  that  runs  about  his  forehead? 
And  there!  what  glitters  on  that  outstretched 
arm?  Hardly  a  man  of  them  but  has  some  gold 
about  him,  but  they  have  not  said  a  word." 

"And  who  has  the  Cup  of  the  Four  Quar 
ters?" 


260  OUTLAND 

"Noche  took  it  from  Oca's  son;  I  saw  him 
studying  it  by  the  reflected  moon,  but  when  I 
came  up  he  hid  it  in  his  bosom." 

"And  the  great  rubies?" 

"They  have  not  come  in." 

"Herman,"  I  said,  after  a  long  pause,  "what 
do  you  think  they  will  do  with  it — and  us?" 

"The  King's  Desire?  Bury  it,  I  hope.  With 
us?  Do  you  know,  Mona,  I  am  no  longer 
anxious  about  what  they  will  do  to  us." 

"No;  they  have  been  good  friends  of  ours." 

"Nor  afraid  of  the  Cup,"  finished  Herman, 
"for  I  have  come  to  feel  that  I  have  found 
something  here  in  Outland  that  not  even  For- 
getfulness  can  take  away.  .  .  .  What  I  said 
to  you  the  other  night  .  .  .  the  door  ..." 

"Oh,  I  thought  it  was  Zirriloe.  .  .  ."  He 
stopped  and  considered.  ".  .  .  And  that  she 
had  shut  it  again  on  cheapness  and  affronting 
shame.  ...  It  left  a  mark  on  me." 

"Such  experiences  do,  Herman." 

"But  she  is  gone  .  .  .  and  the  door  swings 
wide.  It  is  open  to-night;  and  that  is  what  I 
have  found  here  in  Outland  that  I  shall  never 
let  go  again." 

What  he  really  had  was  my  hand,  which 
he  seemed  not  to  be  aware  of,  beating  it  softly 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     261 

between  his  palms  as  he  talked.  I  could 
hardly  withdraw  it  without  seeming  to  point 
an  emphasis. 

"And  being  so  sure  of  that"  said  Herman, 
"makes  it  difficult  to  believe  that  all  this 
should  be  taken  away  from  us." 

He  made  a  gesture  with  the  hand  that  held 
mine  toward  the  swale  of  River  Ward,  the 
silvered  line  of  the  willows,  the  low  moon,  the 
fair  light,  the  smell  of  the  packed  earth  break 
ing  up  to  bloom. 

"Do  you  know,  it  is  very  strange,  Mona,  I 
have  not  the  least  idea  where  we  are,  but  I 
think  I  could  start  out  to-night  direct  for 
home  and  find  it.  Have  you  ever  felt  so?" 

"Not  since  the  Meet  at  Leaping  Water." 

"But  to-night?" 

"To-night  I  feel  it." 

"How  far  away  the  Outliers  seem  to-night. 
Look  down  there  in  the  hollow,  there  is  not 
one  stirring.  How  could  one  say  there  is  now 
any  grief  or  captivity  down  there?  Mona,  do 
you  really  believe  there  are  any  Outliers?" 

"Ah,  I'm  good  at  believing." 

The  moon  dropped  down  behind  the  hill 
till  there  was  but  one  shining  jewel  point  of  it 
winking  on  the  world.  The  chill  that  comes 


262  OUTLAND 

before  the  morning  began  to  temper  the  air 
and  I  shivered  under  it. 

"You  are  cold,"  cried  Herman;  "wait."  He 
slipped  away  in  the  scrub  and  brought  back 
skins  in  which  he  wrapped  me.  "Have  you 
had  any  sleep  at  all  to-night?  Where  is  your 
hand,  Mona?"  He  drew  it  through  his  arm. 
"Now,  if  you  will  lean  back  against  the  oak 
here,  and  against  my  shoulder,  so:  now  you 
may  get  some  rest." 

I  leaned  against  the  oak  and  touched  his 
sleeve  with  my  cheek.  I  had  not  meant  to  do 
more  than  that,  nor  yet  to  sleep,  but  the  oak 
swayed  a  little  comfortingly,  so  still  and  soft 
and  dark  the  night  was — suddenly  there  was 
the  morning  freshness  and  Trastevera  calling 
me  awake. 

I  saw  the  dark  green  of  the  earth  shining 
wet,  the  faint,  ineffable  green  of  the  dawn, 
and  between  them  spread  a  veil  of  silvery 
mist.  Down  in  the  hollow  the  Outliers  were 
all  astir;  rearward  two  lines  of  men  moved 
toward  the  Gap.  I  saw  them  disappear  in  the 
willows  and  emerge  again  in  the  stream 
rounding  the  point  of  the  Ledge.  They  walked 
mid-thigh  in  the  turbid  water  and  braced 
themselves  against  the  force  of  its  running. 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     263 

I  saw  the  lines  bend  and  right  themselves  like 
the  young  willows.  These  were  the  Far-Folk 
moving  under  guard  toward  Leaping  Water. 
Below  us  as  we  came  down  the  knoll  were 
Mancha,  Prassade,  Noche  and  some  others, 
with  one  in  their  midst  whom,  as  they  turned 
and  looked  toward  us  expectantly,  I  recog 
nized  as  Ravenutzi.  He  looked  dry,  I  thought, 
and  stripped.  His  glance,  which  took  me 
dully,  when  at  last  it  was  aware  of  me,  ap 
peared  to  turn  inward  for  an  instant  as  if  to 
call  that  old  excluding  charm  of  personality. 
I  felt  it  flicker  and  expire.  But  all  that  group 
continuing  to  look  toward  us  curiously  as  we 
went  down,  I  enquired  of  Trastevera  what  it 
meant. 

"It  is  Herman,"  she  said.  "They  wait  for 
him.  Mancha  has  asked  if  he  would  like  to 
go  a  day's  journey  with  them." 

"He  will  go,"  I  answered  for  him,  for  I 
knew  at  once  whither  that  journey  tended, 
and  what  they  would  find  at  the  end  of  it.  To 
this  day  I  do  not  know  what  prompted  Man 
cha  to  invite  him.  Whether  he  thought  the 
opportunity  due  to  him  who  had  first  gone  on 
the  trail  of  that  unhappy  girl.  Whether  he 
had  some  inkling  of  Herman's  state  of  mind, 


264  OUTLAND 

and  divined  in  him  an  excusing  understanding 
of  his  own  hopeless  infatuation,  I  do  not  know. 
At  any  rate  he  would  not  set  out  on  that  day's 
business  without  Herman.  That  was  how  we 
learned  what  happened  in  the  Place  of  Caves, 
half  a  day  beyond  Windy  Covers,  and  as  much 
as  was  ever  known  of  what  had  occurred  be 
tween  Ravenutzi  and  the  Maiden  Ward,  no 
maid  by  now,  and  in  a  more  inviolable  ward 
ship. 

They  were  afoot  nearly  all  of  that  day,  for 
besides  having  far  to  go,  the  men  were  stiff 
with  battle.  They  traveled  in  this  order- 
first  Ravenutzi,  limping  a  little,  and  Mancha 
stumbling  close  upon  his  heels.  Neither  of 
these  spoke  a  word  more  than  necessary  the 
whole  of  that  going.  Then  came  Prassade, 
who  groaned  at  times  and  made  a  gesture  with 
his  hands  as  though  his  heart  were  torn  out  of 
him  and  he  saw  it  there  in  the  trail  and 
trampled  on  it  with  his  feet.  Next  Noche, 
muttering  in  his  beard  and  seeming  at  times 
to  rehearse  the  incidents  of  battle,  lifting  and 
hugging  somewhat  in  his  arms  and  shaking  his 
huge  shoulders.  After  these  came  Herman 
and  the  men,  among  whom  was  that  one  who, 
following  the  tall  woman,  had  found  the 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     265 

smith  and  betrayed  the  Far-Folk  to  capture. 

They  came  behind  the  others  a  little  dis 
tance  and  whispered  at  times  among  them 
selves.  They  talked  of  Mancha's  fight  with 
the  smith  and  how  Oca  went  mad  with  rage 
bestriding  the  dead  body  of  his  son,  striking 
so  furiously  with  his  pike  he  could  not  fetch 
it  back  again,  and  how  Prassade  had  taken 
him  from  behind. 

They  told  also  how  the  women  of  the  Far- 
Folk  had  come  in  from  some  bleak  hilltop 
where  they  hung  like  buzzards,  and  surren 
dered,  asking  no  privilege  but  to  tend  their 
wounded.  Once  it  occurred  to  Herman  to 
ask  if  RavenutzPs  wife  was  among  them,  and 
the  men  said  no.  At  that  Herman  and  Man- 
cha  looked  at  one  another  and  the  same 
thought  was  in  the  minds  of  both  but  they  kept 
it  to  themselves.  About  an  hour  after  midday 
it  began  to  appear  that  they  had  done  wisely 
in  bringing  with  them  this  man  who  had  fol 
lowed  Ravenutzi's  wife.  The  smith  seemed 
determined  to  mislead  them.  He  wished  to 
turn  out  of  his  earlier  trail  very  far  to  the 
right,  and  could  not  understand  why  this  man 
protested  so  much  nor  why  Mancha  paid  any 
attention  to  him. 


266  OUTLAND 

"This  is  the  way,"  he  said;  "who  should 
know  it  if  not  I?" 

"By  the  Friend,  smith,  it  may  be  your  way," 
said  the  man,  "but  it  was  not  the  way  your 
woman  took  following  your  trail,  and  I  hard 
upon  hers." 

"You  saw  that?"  cried  Ravenutzi.  "A 
woman,  my  wife,  following  me  to — to  the 
place  where  we  are  going?"  Herman  said  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  seen  Ravenutzi  be 
side  himself;  he  grew  gray,  a  film  came  before 
his  eyes  through  which  the  pupils  opened/ 
blank  pits  of  horror. 

"You  saw  that,"  he  cried,  "and  you  let  her 
go!" 

"Ah,"  said  the  man,  "but  I  judged  you  the 
better  game." 

Ravenutzi  twisted  like  a  man  on  a  rope.  He 
set  off  running. 

"This  is  the  way,"  he  said,  "it  is  shorter  so." 
And  the  rest  ran  on  to  keep  up  with  him.  They 
came  in  this  running  fashion  to  the  place  of 
the  boulders  where  the  woman  had  lain  face 
downward  in  the  dust,  and  passed  over  the 
sag  in  the  hills  where  she  had  been  last  seen 
disappearing.  Beyond  this  was  stony  coun 
try;  great  boulders  huge  as  houses  lay  all 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     267 

a-heap  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  ridge.  Smaller 
stones  and  rubble  from  the  slope  had  drifted 
down  and  choked  the  upper  crannies  between 
the  boulders,  so  that  under  them  were  windy 
galleries  and  spacious  caves.  There  was  no 
game  nor  foodful  plant,  only  coarse  tufts  of 
grass  between  wide  stones,  nothing  to  draw 
men,  only  shelter  and  safe  hiding. 

When  they  came  near  this  place,  Ravenutzi 
began  to  go  more  slowly,  forewarned  perhaps 
and  afraid  of  what  he  should  find  there.  He 
raised  a  call,  cautiously  at  first,  got  no  answer, 
called  loudly,  grew  anxious,  set  off  running 
again,  the  men  hard  behind  him.  The  place 
fronted  westward;  the  shadows  retreating  in 
ward  gave  to  the  caverns  under  the  rocks  a 
shallow  look.  The  men  could  not  have  told 
from  the  outside  which  of  them  would  have 
yielded  passage,  but  Ravenutzi  plunged  into 
one,  which  proved  an  arched  gallery.  It 
opened  into  a  sort  of  court,  from  which  a 
water-worn  gully  led  steeply  up  to  a  ledge  on 
which  opened  a  cave,  overhung  and  guarded 
at  the  entrance  by  fire-blackened  stones.  They 
were  slow  enough  going  up  this  steep,  to  ob 
serve  a  woman  who  sat  at  the  mouth  of  the 
cave  with  her  knees  drawn  up  under  her  hands, 


268  OUTLAND 

and  her  head  bent  upon  them.  They  saw  that 
she  was  tall  and  had  long  hair  that  coiled  flatly 
about  her  throat  and  between  her  breasts. 

She  looked  up  from  her  knees  as  they 
climbed  and  clustered  on  the  narrow  platform 
before  the  cave.  There  was  neither  astonish 
ment  nor  fear  in  her  eyes,  only  weariness,  as 
of  one  who  has  accomplished  what  she  has 
long  sought  and  found  that  after  that  noth 
ing  mattered.  Some  color  sprang  in  her  face 
as  Ravenutzi  stood  before  her,  the  faint  tinge 
of  expectancy.  But  he  never  looked  at  her. 

"Where,  where  is  she?" 

It  was  Ravenutzi  who  asked,  and  got  no  an 
swer  except  as  by  the  turning  of  the  long 
throat  she  indicated  the  cave  behind  her.  Rest 
ing  her  head  upon  her  knees,  the  tall  woman 
went  on  looking  quietly  at  nothing. 

The  floor  of  the  cave  sloped  downward.  It 
was  low  at  the  mouth,  and  the  men  stooped 
going  through  it.  It  was  large  and  airy,  and 
had  been  hung  with  tawny  and  dappled  skins ; 
some  light  broke  through  high  crannies  in 
the  roof  and  showed  them  in  the  midst  of 
these  the  Ward.  She  was  very  beautiful.  The 
sparkling  masses  of  her  hair  drifted  out  on 
either  side  the  cameo  face.  Over  the  eyes, 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     269 

that  were  brown  like  agates  at  the  bottom  of 
a  brook,  the  pale  lids  half  drooped  like  the 
rims  of  snow  that  lie  along  brook  borders  in 
the  cold.  She  was  partly  dressed,  the  bosom 
bare,  and  over  its  soft  curves  ran  a  line  of 
blood-red  stones,  wickedly  afire  on  that  cold 
breast,  tremblingly,  shiftily  alive  in  the  light 
that  sifted  through  the  crannies  of  the  rocks. 
Around  the  throat  and  in  the  hollow  of  the 
bosom  they  led  the  eye  down  where  they  melt 
ed,  and  ran  in  redness  and  spread  dully  on 
the  floor,  still  wet  and  dripping. 

He  was  so  moved  by  that  sight,  Herman 
said,  and  for  the  moment  so  little  believing 
in  it,  that  he  had  no  realization  of  how  the 
others  looked  at  it  nor  what  they  might  have 
felt.  He  was  first  roused  to  take  note  of  his 
companions  by  seeing  the  smith  turn  from  the 
body  with  a  movement  of  deprecation,  and 
the  sudden  swinging  of  Mancha's  hammer  into 
position.  He  heard  it  click  as  it  rose  against 
the  roof  of  the  cave.  He  heard  an  exclama 
tion  but  could  not  tell  for  the  life  of  him 
whether  he  himself  had  not  uttered  it;  and 
then  he  saw  the  hammer  caught  from  behind 
by  the  girl's  father. 

"Mine,"  he  said;  "mine,  not  yours." 


270  OUTLAND 

Prassade  was  as  fierce  upon  the  point  as  if 
some  one  had  denied  it:  his  the  greater  of 
fense,  to  him  the  punishment.  Then  as  quiet 
ly  as  Mancha's  hammer  dropped,  the  wrath  of 
Prassade  fell  off  before  the  unimpassioned 
quietness  of  the  Ward.  Stillness  seemed  to 
rise  from  her  and  crowd  them  out  of  the  nar 
row  chamber  into  the  overhung  and  guarded 
entrance  where  the  woman  sat  winding  and 
unwinding  the  long  coils  of  her  hair.  They 
did  not  look  at  the  Ward  again  nor  back  at 
what  Prassade  did ;  it  was  a  relief  to  watch  the 
woman.  She  stood  up  and  her  head  was  high, 
her  lip  was  bitten  red,  two  spots  of  color 
glowed  upon  her  cheeks.  She  looked  at  Ra- 
venutzi  as  a  child  might  who  has  broken  a 
delicate  thing  and  refuses  to  be  chidden 
for  it. 

"The  place  was  too  small  for  us  both,"  she 
said,  and  then  after  a  little:  "I  thought  you 
would  never  come,"  with  a  gesture  of  weary, 
ineffable  tenderness.  "Oh,  I  thought  you 
would  never  come." 

She  was  all  alive  to  him  and  very  beauti 
ful,  so  flushed  and  so  alive  you  could  not  un 
derstand  that  death  could  be  so  close  behind 
her.  All  the  rushing  of  her  blood  and  the 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     271 

swaying  of  her  slender  figure  demanded  of 
him  what,  even  with  death  behind,  he  could 
not  deny.  He  took  her  in  his  arms.  He  put  up 
his  hand  to  turn  her  face  on  his  shoulder  away 
from  the  hard  eyes  of  the  men.  But  he  could 
not  conceal  as  he  did  so  the  flush  upon  his  own 
and  the  tremor  of  renewal. 

Whatever  the  girl  had  been  to  him,  she  was 
now  the  evidence  of  how  much  his  wife  had 
loved  him;  as  much  as  that!  It  was  a  dec 
laration  which  shamed  him  by  its  publicity 
but  purchased  him  anew  to  passion  and  pro 
tecting  tenderness.  They  stood  so,  she  su 
perbly  conscious  of  her  right  to  a  place  she 
had  cleared  for  herself,  and  he  still  shielding 
her.  Nobody  spoke  a  word.  Behind  in 
the  cavern  Prassade  put  back  the  dead  girl's 
hair  from  her  soiling  blood  and  covered  up 
her  breast.  Presently  he  called  Mancha,  and 
the  others  by  one  consent  moved  down  the  wa 
ter-worn  way,  out  of  the  sound  of  their  sor 
row.  Ravenutzi's  arm  was  still  about  his  wife. 
At  the  foot  of  the  ascent  he  put  her  from  him 
quietly. 

"Go  wait  by  the  outer  caves,"  he  said. 
"They  will  not  wish  to  see  you  when  they 
come  out."  And  she,  lifting  up  her  head  from 


272  OUTLAND 

his  breast,  went  quietly,  all  gentleness  and 
submission,  never  seeing  how  the  others  looked 
at  her,  never  taking  her  eyes  from  him  till  the 
boulders  closed  on  her  and  hid  her  from  their 
view. 

"I  should  say  to  you,"  said  Ravenutzi, 
"what,  perhaps,  I  may  not  have  time  to  say 
again" — for  he  thought  then  and  the  others 
thought,  that  Prassade  would  kill  him  when 
he  came  out  of  the  cave.  It  was  to  spare  her 
that  sight  that  he  sent  his  wife  away.  "You 
may  say  to  the  others  when  they  are  able  to 
hear  it,"  he  went  on,  "that  much  you  may  have 
been  thinking  of  that  fair  child  is  wrong.  She 
never  told  me  where  the  King's  Desire  was 
hid. 

"She  never  told,"  he  insisted,  "not  of  her 
own  consciousness" — looking  about  for  some 
point  of  interest  or  attention  to  fix  upon,  and 
settling  upon  some  small  stones  which  he 
pushed  together  with  his  foot — "something  I 
had  from  her  without  her  knowing  it  .  .  .  but 
there  were  others" — here,  his  gaze  rested  an 
instant  on  Noche,  and  dropped  to  the  stones 
again — ".  .  .  several  others  ...  in  whose 
minds  the  facts  lay  like  trout  in  a  lake  for  him 
to  make  rise  who  was  able.  .  .  .  Among  my 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     273 

people  there  is  great  skill  in  this.  .  .  .  You 
yourselves  gave  me  the  opportunity  ...  all 
your  minds  ran  full  of  it  as  a  creek  after  the 


rain." 


He  looked  up  from  his  stones,  which  he  had 
pushed  into  line  as  though  they  were  a  class 
who  could  nowise  hear  him  until  they  had 
been  so  ordered.  He  must  have  found  some 
hint  of  belief  in  Herman's  face,  for  he  ad 
dressed  himself  to  that  more  confidently. 

"It  is  true  I  wooed  her  ...  so  as  to  have 
an  open  road  to  her  mind.  She  had  no  chance 
against  me  ...  but  she  never  knowingly  told. 
.  .  .  I  do  not  think  I  could  have  persuaded 
her." 

I  believe  the  man  spoke  truth.  For  a  cer 
tainty  he  felt  death  close  upon  him.  Whether 
the  men  believed  him  or  not  they  honored  his 
intention  to  clear  the  girl.  Some  slight  ease 
ment  of  their  manner  toward  him  made  it 
possible  to  say  more  openly: 

"I  meant  no  harm  to  her.  She  had  none  at 
first.  ...  I  brought  her  away  because  I 
thought  you  would  not  believe  .  .  .  you 
would  have  killed  her  .  .  .  she  came  .  .  ." 

He  stopped  full  at  that,  there  was  no  need 
to  say  how  she  came  nor  what  believing.  They 


274  OUTLAND 

were  all  still  together,  thinking  what  he  had 
done  and  despising  him  too  much  to  question 
at  all.  He  essayed  to  speak  once  or  twice  after 
that,  and  Herman  observed  that  look  to  come 
upon  his  face  which  he  had  often  remarked 
there.  The  faun's  look,  half  wishful,  half 
defiant.  A  wild  creature  that  abates  none  of 
its  creature  ways,  but  is  desirous  to  have  touch 
with  man. 

"How  fine  a  piece  of  work  she  was,"  he  said. 
".  .  .  The  way  her  chin  was  fitted  into  her 
throat  .  .  .  the  gold  fret  of  her  hair.  ...  I 
was  the  smith  .  .  ." 

He  stopped ;  there  was  nothing  in  the  faces 
of  the  men  that  gave  him  leave  to  say  his 
craftsman's  delight  in  her  who  was  to  them  the 
injured  daughter  of  their  friend, 

Prassade  came  out  presently  and  Mancha 
with  him.  They  looked  nor  spoke  to  no  one 
as  they  came  down  the  gully,  but  each  took  up 
a  stone,  walking  with  it  laboriously,  and  laid 
it  at  the  cave's  mouth.  Then  one  of  the  men 
went  and  did  the  same,  and  the  others,  and 
Herman.  At  last  Ravenutzi,  seeing  no  one 
hindered  him,  took  up  a  stone  and  went  up  and 
down  with  them,  carrying,  until  the  mouth  of 
the  cave  was  quite  full.  Presently  Ravenutzi's 


HOW  THEY  FOUND  THE  RUBIES     275 

wife,  grown  tired  of  waiting,  crept  back 
through  the  stone  arch  and  stood  watching 
them  with  red  bitten  lip,  coiling  and  uncoil 
ing  the  long  strands  of  her  hair. 


XIV 

THE  KING'S  DESIRE,  AND  WHAT  BECAME  OF  IT 


JT       "^HE  party  of  us  that  came  up  from 
River    Ward    to    Leaping    Water 
turned    aside    from    the    meadow 
where  the  Meet  had  been,  and  set 
tled  in  one  of  the  galleries  of  that  amphi 
theater  looking  down  on  its  veiled  cascades. 
The  shouting  of  the  falls  came  up  to  us  mixed 
with  the  faint,  incessant  murmur  given  off  by 
a  great  forest.    From  here  the  rim  of  the  world 
sank  westward  into  the  thin  blue  ring  of  the 
sea. 

We  had  come  so  slowly,  being  joined  at 
times  by  families  of  Outliers,  come  out  of  safe 
hiding  and  already  furnished  with  news.  We 
were  scarcely  well  settled  in  the  place  when 
word  of  the  death  of  the  Ward  began  to  cir 
culate  among  them  in  that  mysterious  way  of 
news  to  travel  in  the  open.  Doubtless  it  came 
by  way  of  runners  stationed  out  toward  Windy 
Covers,  by  which  trail  the  seekers  of  the  Ward 

276 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    277 

returned.  Rumor  of  it  was  rife  in  the  camp 
a  full  hour  before  Mancha  and  Prassade  came 
in.  There  was  very  little  said  about  it,  they 
were  at  all  times  as  private  in  their  griefs  as 
wild  creatures,  but  I  think  they  felt  better  sat 
isfied  to  learn  that  the  natural  progress  of  her 
betrayal  had  furnished  its  own  punishment 
and  spared  them  the  necessity  of  putting  Zir- 
riloe  to  death. 

Herman  came  and  told  me  this,  walking  at 
dusk  on  an  open  hill  where  there  was  long 
grass  blowing  and  shut-eyed  heavy  flowers 
among  the  grasses.  But  it  was  a  long  time 
before  he  would  talk  freely  of  that  sugges 
tion  of  excuse,  put  forth  by  Ravenutzi,  which 
lay  in  the  appeal  to  his  craftsman's  soul  of 
the  girl's  bodily  perfection.  He  had  been  no 
more  able  to  resist  taking  into  his  hand  that 
fair  contrivance  than  any  other  jewel  of  gold 
and  fine  stones,  and  its  turning  to  flesh  and 
blood  under  his  touch  had  been  a  bitter  and 
unavoidable  consequence.  I  think  Herman's 
inarticulateness  grew  out  of  feeling  himself 
involved  in  the  ruin  of  a  lovely  woman  in  the 
common  culpability  of  men.  She  was  a  vase 
which  they  had  pulled  about  among  them  in 
admiring,  and  dropped  and  shattered. 


278  OUTLAND 

I  say  I  think  Herman  felt  this,  though 
I  do  not  now  recall  any  words  that  passed  be 
tween  us  on  the  subject.  Yet  I  was  at  that 
time  much  nearer  to  understanding  the  be- 
guilement  of  beauty,  and  the  pain  of  its  baffle 
ment  which  drives  men  to  create  of  words  and 
paint  and  stone,  forms  of  it  by  which  no  confu 
sion  can  come.  When  I  saw  Ravenutzi  sitting 
among  the  Far- Folk,  with  his  knees  drawn  up 
under  his  hands  and  his  delicate  faun's  profile 
bent  above  them,  looking  out  at  me  in  the  old 
way,  at  once  wishful  and  compelling,  the  look 
I  sent  back  to  him  was  almost  kind. 

The  whiteness  of  his  hair  had  been  cut  away, 
the  drawn  look  of  his  skin  smoothed  out.  I 
saw  how  young  he  was,  a  little  of  what  those 
two  women  had  seen  who  had  been  drawn  by 
it  to  death  and  killing.  His  wife  sat  with  her 
head  propped  against  his  shoulder.  And  for 
so  long  as  she  sat  there,  assured,  accepted,  it 
was  plain  there  was  for  her  neither  anxiety  nor 
pained  remembrance,  nor  any  other  thing. 

One  supposes  death  at  all  times  so  natural 
that  the  wound  of  it  heals  by  its  own  processes. 
It  was  so  with  the  Outliers.  No  later  than 
the  next  morning  much  of  the  bitterness  of  loss 
had  drained  away  with  the  dark.  The  busi- 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    279 

ness  of  the  Ward  being  finished  they  turned 
without  discursiveness  to  disposing  of  Ra- 
venutzi,  the  Far-Folk  and  the  King's  Desire. 
Though  we  had  no  inkling,  Herman  and  I, 
what  would  be  done  to  the  smith,  we  felt  it 
would  be  just;  and  whatever  would  be  done  to 
the  Far-Folk,  more  than  kind.  Concerning 
the  Treasure  there  must  some  command  have 
circulated.  Though  we  had  seen  it  glinting 
in  the  camp  at  River  Ward — there  was  scarce 
ly  a  man  who  had  not  brought  something  away 
with  him  from  the  last  fight — there  was  not  so 
much  as  the  red  sparkle  of  a  jewel  to  be  seen 
at  Leaping  Water. 

The  Council  met  early  on  the  second  morn 
ing,  going  down  toward  Council  Hollow  be 
fore  the  dew  was  dried  upon  the  fern.  All  the 
camp,  scattered  as  it  was  in  a  great  treeless 
tract,  hung  in  the  breathless  quiet  of  suspense. 
There  was  scarcely  any  stir  of  talk  or  move 
ment  except  now  and  then  among  the  Far- 
Folk,  who  lay  all  together  like  cattle  on  a 
warm  hill  slope,  turning  toward  the  sun. 

Herman  and  I,  since  no  one  seemed  to  re 
gard  us,  thought  of  going  down  to  revisit  the 
meadow  and  the  lovely  open  water  below  the 
Leap.  But  the  expectant  sense  that  brooded 


280  OUTLAND 

over  the  camp  bound  us  to  the  consideration  of 
what  might  be  decided  about  us  personally  at 
the  Council.  If  we  looked  afar  at  the  sea  rim, 
trying  to  make  out  at  what  point  we  were,  we 
looked  suddenly  back  to  see  if  the  councilors 
were  not  coming  up  the  hill.  If  we  heard  a 
lark  rising  with  its  breast  all  brightening  yel 
low  from  some  grassy  water  border,  we  lis 
tened  the  more  anxiously  immediately  to  hear 
if  any  one  had  come  to  call  us  in  to  judgment. 

When  the  shadows  were  gone  far  toward 
mid-day  we  heard  what  might  have  been  the 
breaking  out  of  bird  songs  low  and  urgently 
through  all  the  open  woodland.  There  was 
a  sound  of  feet  moving  all  together,  and  then 
some  one  calling  us  by  name.  The  Council 
men  were  coming  up  from  the  Hollow  and  the 
Outliners  crowded  up  to  them  to  hear  what 
they  had  to  say.  They  said  nothing  whatever 
until  we  were  all  come  into  hearing,  and 
ranged,  the  Far- Folk  on  one  side  and  we  on 
the  other,  on  the  crown  of  a  hill,  open,  and 
having  a  large  grassy  space  beyond  it. 

I  thought  then,  and  I  have  not  since  recon 
sidered  it,  that  of  all  times  the  noon  is  the 
most  solemn  in  which  to  deliver  judgment. 
When  all  the  earth  is  quiet,  shadows  folded 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    281 

up,  no  bird  singing,  no  beast  abroad,  all  the 
outer  sense  drowses  under  the  sun  glare.  At 
such  a  time  to  hear  a  voice  crying  punish 
ment  and  doom  is  more  terrible  than  any 
hour  of  night.  A  convocation  of  wolves  in 
the  open  sun  would  not  have  seemed  more  sin 
gular,  but  this  was  not  a  business  which  could 
await  a  gentler  time. 

We  could  see  Persilope  standing  up,  all  ex 
pression  beaten  out  of  his  face  by  the  sun,  like 
leaf  under  the  gold  beater's  hand.  Presently 
when  we  were  all  well  quieted,  he  began  in  a 
voice  pitched  for  carrying,  but  toneless  as  the 
light,  ordering  some  skins  to  be  spread  in  the 
grassy  space  in  front  of  him.  Then  it  was  or 
dered  that  all  the  Outliers  who  had  anything 
of  the  King's  Desire  should  bring  it  to  that 
place.  The  chief  held  up  as  he  spoke,  the  cir 
clet  which  he  had  taken  from  Oca's  head;  and 
as  he  turned  it  in  the  sun,  it  melted  and  ran  a 
ring  of  changing  fire.  When  he  had  done 
speaking  he  cast  it  down  with  so  much  force 
that  the  setting,  which  was  old  and  delicate, 
burst  and  sent  the  stones  scattering  like  broken 
coals.  There  was  a  little  pause  after  that, 
and  then  Noche,  springing  up  from  behind 
him,  held  up  the  King's  Cup,  but  neither  so 


282  OUTLAND 

high  nor  so  steadily.  A  little  laggard  of  per 
ception,  as  the  very  strong  commonly  are,  the 
point  of  what  Ravenutzi  had  said  about  the 
way  in  which  he  had  come  to  learn  the  secret 
of  the  Treasure,  had  driven  slowly  to  the  old 
man's  brain.  Now  it  troubled  his  counte 
nance:  his  eyes  were  dark  sockets  between  the 
drift  of  his  brows  and  beard.  He  held  up  the 
vase  in  his  hands. 

"Cup  of  the  Four  Quarters,"  he  said,  "O 
Cup  of  Tears!"  His  strength  surged  in  him 
with  the  recollection;  the  bowl  crumpled  in 
his  grip,  he  bent  back  the  base  upon  the  stem 
and  dropped  it  on  the  ground. 

After  him  came  every  man  with  what  he 
had;  armlets  and  buckles  and  chains  of 
wrought  and  beaten  gold  and  jewels,  and 
the  jeweled  lamps  and  vessels.  The  heap 
grew;  it  glittered  and  darted  pain  into  the 
eyes;  it  had  green  and  blue  and  ruby  gleams 
in  it  that  winked  and  mocked  the  sun.  When 
it  was  all  in — all  but  the  great  rubies  which 
lie  still  in  a  place  known  only  to  some  few  of 
us  who  are  not  likely  to  go  there  to  fetch  them 
—and  the  men  had  sat  down  again,  Persilope 
began. 

He   spoke   steadily   and   without   passion, 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    283 

saying  what  was  well  known  to  them,  that 
a  curse  was  laid  on  whoever  lifted  the  King's 
Desire.  But  the  truth  was,  the  curse  lay  in 
the  mere  possession  of  it  by  whatever  means; 
as  if  one  should  expect  to  keep  a  viper  in  his 
house  and  not  himself  be  stung  by  it.  Itlan 
had  been  destroyed  for  it,  and  all  those  of 
their  own  people  who  had  kept  the  Treasure 
since,  had  purchased  nothing  but  wars  and 
trouble  with  it.  All  of  which  being  within 
their  knowledge  and  true,  it  was  agreed  for 
the  safety  of  the  Outliers  to  cast  out  the  King's 
Desire  as  men  would  a  poison  snake  which 
they  had  found  among  the  huts. 

At  this  there  was  a  spark,  a  quiver  of  ex 
pectancy  among  the  Far- Folk.  As  if  they  im 
agined,  eyeing  it  so  greedily,  that  the  treasure 
heap  was  to  be  handed  over  to  them  as  it  lay, 
not  so  very  unlike  the  snake  of  his  comparison, 
coiled  glisteningly  upon  itself  with  red  jew 
eled  eyes. 

Such  an  expectation,  if  it  amounted  to  that, 
died  with  Persilope's  next  sentence,  which 
was,  briefly,  to  the  effect  that  for  all  these  rea 
sons  it  had  been  determined  that  when  the 
Treasure  was  buried  again,  as  it  shortly  would 
be,  it  was  to  be  followed  by  a  forgetfulness 


284  OUTLAND 

from  which  there  would  be  no  revival.  It 
was  to  be  forgetfulness  of  such  a  fashion — 
here  he  looked  over  at  Ravenutzi  and  the 
bleakness  of  his  delivery  augmented — that 
there  would  be  no  picking  of  their  brains  aft 
erward. 

I  could  see  that  the  news  of  this  conclusion 
had  already  spread  and  been  accepted  by  the 
Outliers.  It  was,  perhaps,  in  the  eye  of  all  that 
had  recently  occurred,  not  strange  they  should 
accept  it  with  so  much  gravity,  and  on  the 
part  of  the  women  with  some  consternation. 

I  looked  over  at  Trastevera  where  she  sat 
close  to  her  husband.  I  saw  her  look  doubt 
fully;  write  with  her  finger  in  the  dust. 
Then  I  saw  that  no  Outlier  looked  at  any 
other,  but  down  or  up.  I  thought  I  under 
stood  that  though  they  agreed  with  the  judg 
ment,  no  one  wished  to  assume  the  responsi 
bility  and  drink  so  deeply  of  the  Cup.  It  had 
not  yet  occurred  to  me  that  there  was  any  other 
way  in  which  complete  forgetfulness  could  be 
secured. 

I  saw  Persilope  search  his  people  slowly 
with  his  glance  before  he  spoke  in  a  voice 
heard  to  the  outer  ring. 

"Outliers,  are  you  all  here?" 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    285 

It  was  followed  by  the  rustle  and  murmur 
by  which  they  took  account  of  themselves  and 
of  those  left  beyond  River  Ward  with  the 
wounded.  The  murmur,  swelled  to  affirma 
tion,  passed  from  group  to  group  and  was 
handed  up  to  Persilope  by  the  nearest  council- 
men. 

"We  are  all  here." 

"Know  then,"  he  said,  his  voice  and  words 
shaping  to  formality  and  sounding  drearily  in 
the  white  aching  noon,  "that  there  is  a  service 
to  be  performed  for  the  common  good,  and  a 
penalty  to  be  undertaken.  The  Council  leaves 
it  open  to  any  man  who  loves  the  common  good 
so  much,  now  to  offer  himself.  Is  there  any 
so  offers?" 

And  still  the  eye  of  no  Outlier  sought  any 
other  eye,  only  I  saw  Trastevera  look  up  from 
her  drawing  and,  leaning  a  little  past  the 
others,  gaze  steadily  toward  some  spot  beyond 
her  with  a  long,  compelling  look.  Before  I 
could  follow  it  to  its  point  of  attention,  almost 
before  Persilope  had  done  speaking,  I  saw 
Noche  getting  on  his  feet,  blinking  a  little  as 
though  the  light  abashed  him,  and  fumbling 
embarrassedly  at  his  girdle  like  a  child. 

"If  I  should  be  counted  worthy  ...  if  I 


286  OUTLAND 

could  be  trusted  again  .  .  ."  He  shook  with 
eagerness.  "Tribesmen,  it  is  my  right,  for  it 
was  through  my  doddering  old  tongue  the 
secret  escaped.  .  .  .  Ask  him."  He  pointed 
to  Ravenutzi.  "He  said  so;  ask  them."  His 
great,  gnarly  arm,  like  the  stump  of  an  oak, 
was  stretched  toward  Prassade  and  Mancha, 
and  it  trembled  like  an  oak  when  the  axe  is 
at  its  roots.  "Ask  them  if  he  did  not  say  so 
at  the  Place  of  Caves  .  .  .  though  I  would 
have  died  rather  .  .  ." 

"It  was  from  my  hand  the  Ward  was  loosed 
.  .  .  under  ray  eyes  he  seduced  her  mind  .  .  . 
fool,  fool!"  This  was  the  voice  of  Waddyn, 
who  rose  up  in  his  place  behind  Noche,  tall 
and  very  gaunt,  as  some  old  wolf  of  the  wil 
derness.  He  struck  himself  on  the  breast. 
"We  are  old  men,"  he  said,  "shall  we  have 
discredit  at  the  last?  Chief,  are  we  accepted?" 

In  their  eagerness  he  and  Noche  had  struck 
hands  together  like  two  children  come  to  beg 
a  holiday,  dropping  apart  as  the  murmur  of 
acceptance  ran  among  the  Outliers  and  made 
them  men  again.  "You  are  accepted,"  an 
nounced  Persilope.  So  they  sat  down  again, 
each  in  his  place,  quite  contented. 

There  was  a  little  pause  here.     I  was  try- 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    287 

ing  from  where  I  sat  to  have  a  glimpse  of  Rav- 
enutzi,  to  see  how  this  affected  him,  if  at  all, 
when  I  heard  some  disturbance  behind  me, 
and  a  voice  crying  out: 

"No,  no,  I  cannot  lose  you  both!" 

I  turned,  and  I  saw  Prassade  stooping  to 
disengage  his  knees  from  his  wife's  clinging, 
and  holding  her  from  him  by  the  shoulders, 
begin  to  speak. 

"I  also  .  .  ." 

"Outliers,"  he  said,  and  by  the  hollowness 
of  his  voice  and  the  sinking  of  his  cheek  under 
the  red  beard  they  saw  what  havoc  grief  and 
disgrace  had  made  in  him,  "Outliers,  it  is 
through  my  blood  dishonor  came,  and  one  of 
my  blood  must  cure  it.  There  is  none  but 


me." 


There  was  a  general  outcry  of  dismayed 
protest  and  assurance. 

"Not  you,  Prassade,  not  you  .  .  ." 

"No  fault  of  yours  .  .  ." 

"She  has  paid  .  .  ." 

"She  was  but  a  child,  she  has  paid  in 
full  .  .  ." 

And  then  from  the  woman  at  his  feet: 

"Think  of  me,  Prassade." 


288  OUTLAND 

"Think  of  what  I  think  on  day  and  night," 
cried  Prassade,  "and  let  me  go." 

"Prassade,"  said  the  young  chief,  greatly 
troubled,  "in  that  which  we  propose  to  do, 
when  this  business  is  settled,  I  shall  have  great 
need,  as  in  the  past  I  have  had  great  benefit, 
from  your  interest  and  advice  .  .  ." 

"No,  no!  .  .  ."  The  man's  voice  was  a  des 
perate  gasp  merely.  "Never  shall  I  give 
counsel  who  could  not  advise  my  own  child 
against  dishonor" — holding  his  wife  from 
him  still,  though  the  poor  creature  worked  to 
ward  him  on  her  knees.  "Never  shall  I  beget 
children  again  who  have  been  betrayed  by  my 
own  child.  .  .  .  Ah  ...  let  me  go  ...  let 
me  go  ...  and  by  service  ...  by  forget 
ting  .  .  ."  There  was  something  almost  of 
madness  in  his  wounded  desperation.  I  sup 
pose  his  wife  must  have  seen  that.  She  left 
off  entreaty  and  took  his  hand,  fondling  it 
quietly,  turning  as  she  was,  upon  her  knees, 
toward  Persilope  and  the  elders,  quite  broken 
and  submissive. 

"It  is  best  you  let  him  go,"  she  said,  "he  will 
be  happier  so." 

Prassade  caught  at  this,  his  lip  was  wet  with 
eagerness. 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    289 

"Ay,  ay,  how  can  I  know  happiness  again? 
She  knows  I  cannot." 

"Are  you  sure,"  said  Persilope  to  the  wife, 
"that  you  are  prepared  for  ...  that  you  un 
derstand?" 

"I  understand,"  she  answered  back,  neither 
of  them  looking  at  the  man  in  question.  "If 
it  means  peace  for  him,  I  am.  .  .  ."  She 
threw  out  her  hands  to  show  how  obedient  she 
was  to  destiny. 

"Am  I  accepted,  chief;  am  I  accepted?" 
The  man  trembled  with  the  hope  of  deliver 
ance. 

"You  are  accepted,"  the  chief  admitted, 
seeing  there  was  no  one  disposed  to  deny  him. 
There  was  a  space  of  stillness  in  the  bright 
palpitating  noon  before  Persilope,  measuring 
the  heap  of  gold  and  jeweled  vessels  with  his 
eye,  had  turned  back  and  said:  "It  wants  yet 
another." 

Then  I  saw  his  wife  leaning  a  little  from 
where  she  sat  with  her  glance  still  fixed  and 
compelling.  I  followed  it  past  the  line  of 
elders  and  found  it  fixed  on  Ravenutzi.  Before 
I  could  shape  in  my  mind  what  wordless 
urgency  lay  behind  that  look,  I  saw  the  smith 
rise  slowly,  and  stepping  carefully  among  the 


29o  OUTLAND 

rows  of  seated  captives,  come  and  stand  beside 
Prassade  and  the  two  others.  Trastevera  sunk 
backward  in  her  seat  with  the  look  of  one  justi 
fied  in  a  long  belief. 

"I,"  he  said,  "offer  myself." 

At  this  simple  and  unexpected  intrusion  of 
the  smith  into  the  situation,  there  burst  from 
the  Outliers  a  sudden  sharp  hiss  of  refusal  and 
indignation.  It  was  followed  instantly  after 
by  harsh  ironical  laughter.  Cries  sounded, 
here  and  there  two  arms  and  a  head  cast  up, 
like  the  crest  of  a  wolf  out  of  a  pack,  protest- 
ingly,  and  hands  pulled  him  down  again. 

"The  smith,  the  smith!"  they  cried.  "A 
reparation,  a  reparation  f" 

They  were  fierce  for  the  moment  with  the 
irony  of  the  situation  and  their  grim  enjoy 
ment  of  it.  Yet,  though  there  was  a  kind  of 
justice  in  making  the  man  who  had  dared  most 
to  possess  the  King's  Desire  the  best  keeper  of 
it,  I  thought  they  might  easily  have  found  a 
better  punishment.  Ravenutzi  was,  as  I  be 
lieved,  a  man  of  great  sensibility.  There  must 
have  been  many  things  in  that  connection  he 
would  be  wishful  to  forget.  And  I  could  not 
understand  why  his  willingness  to  take  the 
Cup  in  such  company  confirmed  in  Trastevera 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    291 

the  hope  of  a  latent  nobleness  in  him  which 
had  been  her  own  excuse  for  her  former  kind 
ness.  Neither  could  I  any  more  understand 
the  unmirthful  humor  of  the  Outliers. 

Nor,  I  think,  did  the  Far- Folk  then  under 
stand  it,  looking  askance  and  half  hopeful,  as 
if  in  spite  of  everything  they  expected  Ra- 
venutzi's  wit  to  bring  something  out  of  the 
situation  to  their  profit.  But  the  Outliers  con 
tinuing  to  shout:  "The  smith,  the  smith!  A 
reparation!"  Persilope  was  obliged  formally 
to  announce  his  acceptance. 

Ravenutzi's  part  in  the  reburial  of  the 
Treasure  being  settled,  the  four  men  went  to 
work  to  cord  it  up  conveniently  for  carrying. 
Without  further  ceremony  they  took  tools  for 
digging  and  set  out  from  the  camp  with  the 
Treasure  swung  between  them.  They  went 
toward  the  deep  forest  and  by  such  a  trail  that, 
when  they  had  passed  over  a  little  rise  of 
ground  a  few  hundred  yards  from  us,  no  one 
could  see  the  way  they  went.  No  one  moved 
from  his  place  lest  he  should  accuse  himself 
of  a  wish  to  do  so. 

We  sat  and  watched  below  us  the  banner  of 
the  Leap  stream  through  its  irised  changes, 
saw  the  shadows  shrink  and  stretch  toward 


292  OUTLAND 

afternoon.  Sat  so  still  that  a  little  black  bear 
came  out  of  the  manzanita  and  <whoofed  and 
ran  across  the  outstretched  legs  of  the  Out 
liers,  and  a  troop  of  deer  trotted  up  from  the 
valley  and  stared  soft-eyed  at  us,  skirting  the 
rim  of  the  hollow.  Two  or  three  hours  went 
over  us,  and  hawks  began  to  dart  out  of  the 
scrub  to  hunt  before  we  heard  the  four  re 
turning.  They  were  tired,  overdone,  but  they 
had  bathed  at  the  creek  and  set  their  clothing 
in  order.  No  soiling  traces  betrayed  where 
they  had  been. 

They  came  up  and  delivered  themselves  as 
for  inspection  to  Persilope.  What  followed 
was  very  brief. 

"Is  it  accomplished?"  said  the  chief. 

"It  is  accomplished." 

"You  are  prepared,  then?" 

"We  are  prepared." 

Some  slight  bequests  followed  concerning 
articles  of  property,  which  the  chief  took  as 
executor. 

"My  young  sons  .  .  ."  said  Prassade. 

"Are  mine." 

"Then  we  are  ready." 

All  this  time  Ravenutzi  had  not  said  a  word. 
One  by  one  the  Outliers,  as  I  had  seen  them  do 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  KING'S  DESIRE    293 

with  Daria,  came  up  to  take  their  leave.  It 
was  done  with  a  deep  and  moving  brevity.  I 
came  in  my  turn  and  cried  a  little  over  old 
Noche. 

"Have  you  forgiven  me  for  overhearing 
what  you  never  meant  for  me?"  said  I. 

"Child,  I  bless  you  for  it:  but  for  you  we 
might  not  have  had  back  again  what  my  prat 
tling  lost." 

All  this  time  no  one  spoke  to  Ravenutzi. 
Trastevera  stopped  before  him  for  a  moment 
or  two,  and  some  wordless  assurance  of  recon 
ciliation  passed  between  them.  He  had  not 
asked  for  farewells  from  his  own  people  and 
the  Outliers  had  not  suggested  it.  All  being 
over,  the  four  men  began  to  walk  from  the 
camp  and  away  from  the  sun.  As  they  passed 
the  old  King  of  the  Far- Folk,  he  stood  up,  bit 
ing  his  long  beard. 

"Oh,  my  King,"  said  Ravenutzi,  speaking 
loud  that  the  Outliers  might  suspect  no  hid 
den  communication,  "I  have  done  what  1 
could." 

"O  smith,"  said  Oca,  bitter  with  impotence, 
"it  shall  be  remembered." 

They  passed  on  until  they  had  reached  a 
knoll  that  lifted  them  clear  of  intervening 


294  OUTLAND 

scrub.  They  stood  there,  turned  facing  us; 
the  light,  strong  against  them,  made  them  in 
distinct,  the  wind  blurred  the  folds  of  their 
garments.  I  looked  about  expecting  one  with 
the  Cup,  and  saw  instead  a  score  of  the  slings- 
men  measuring  off  their  ground. 

They  stood  with  the  sun  to  their  backs  and 
swung  their  slings  lightly  to  free  them  for 
action.  Until  that  moment  I  had  not  a  notion 
what  was  really  forward,  nor  I  think  had  the 
Far-Folk.  When  they  heard  the  slight  pre 
paratory  whistling  of  the  slings  I  saw  the  wife 
of  Ravenutzi  start  as  if  they  had  stung  upon 
her  flesh.  She  looked  up  and  saw  the  four 
standing  so  quietly  and  the  young  men  with 
their  slings  drawn  to  position  across  the  grassy 
intervening  space.  Noiselessly  she  sprang  up 
and  began  running.  Swiftly  as  she  cleared  the 
space  between  her  and  Ravenutzi  it  was  not 
swift  enough.  The  word  was  given,  the  slings 
were  up  and  whirling;  swifter  than  birds  the 
stones  took  their  flight.  I  saw  her  leaping  on 
the  knoll  and  her  husband's  arms  opened  to 
receive  her,  then  I  heard  the  singing  of  the 
stones  and  saw  them  go  down,  with  her  body 
across  his,  all  so  quietly,  as  grass  is  mown  in 
summer. 


XV 

HOW  HERMAN  AND  I  CAME  BACK  TO 
BROKEN  TREE 

BEFORE  any  bird  awoke,  and  while 
the  wood  was  morning  gray,  the 
Outliers  began  to  move  westward 
next  day  from  Leaping  Water. 
Morning  did  not  break  but  there  was  a  widen 
ing  of  the  gray  space,  a  warming  of  the  slight 
wind,  and  then  the  chill  that  settled  into  weep 
ing  fog.  Blunt  crowns  of  hills  peered  at  us 
through  the  parting  mist,  and  seemed  mys 
teriously  to  move  behind  it  and  at  the  next  lift 
ing  peer  upon  us  from  another  quarter.  Dim 
files  of  trees  marched  down  upon  us  from  ob 
scurity  and  marched  away  again.  Far  to  the 
left  we  heard  the  rain  charging  the  river 
canon,  and  the  stir  of  invisible  cohorts  enfi 
lading  behind  the  locked  ranges. 

I  could  not  make  out  where  we  were,  ex 
cept  that  our  general  movement  was  toward 

295 


296  OUTLAND 

lower  ground,  and  from  the  position  of  a  pale 
yellow  blur  that  appeared  in  the  sky  about 
midday,  I  gathered  that  we  had  moved  south 
and  west.  In  this  space  of  half  obscurity,  wet 
mist,  sodden  grass,  pale  shadow  and  pale  sun, 
the  Far-Folk  moved  with  us.  Neither  they 
nor  Herman  nor  I  cared  to  ask  what  was  meant 
toward  us,  nor  speculated  as  to  what  we  should 
do  about  it.  I  suppose  no  philosophy  could 
have  devised  more  justice  in  the  end  than  the 
working  of  their  own  natures  had  brought  to 
pass.  Whoever  had  met  death  on  this  occa 
sion  had  met  it  so  much  of  his  own  act  that 
the  event  left  no  sense  of  mal-adjustment,  and 
with  it  died  both  remorse  and  recrimination. 

We  had  reached  by  this  time,  Herman  and 
I,  a  large  faith  in  the  reasonableness  of  na 
ture.  Whatever  came  to  us,  we  felt  the  proc 
esses  of  life  rising  to  heal  it  like  the  sap  to  a 
tree's  scar. 

We  kept  close  together,  saying  little,  going 
all  that  day  in  intermitting  fog  and  rain,  until 
the  sky  cleared  well  toward  sunset.  We  had 
come  to  a  halt  an  hour  past  on  a  wild  open 
headland,  and  saw  huge  uncouth  shapes  of 
cloud  hurrying  to  caverns  of  the  sun.  Fog 
lay  thick  in  the  hollows,  hills  islanded  above 


HOW  WE  CAME  BACK  297 

it;  as  it  cleared  and  sunk  and  the  dry  land  ap 
peared  we  saw  how  large  and  good  the  coun 
try  was;  hills  upon  hills,  and  hills  beyond, 
wooded  and  bare,  broken  and  rolling  land. 
Nowhere  was  there  a  man  trace,  no  smoke 
going  up  from  the  canons,  nor  window  lights 
below  the  trees.  To  the  west  the  fog  lay  un- 
pierced,  stretching  seaward,  level  and  roughed 
on  the  surface  like  waves,  beginning  to  take 
a  red  tinge  from  the  sun.  It  was  not  until 
then  that  we  had  some  hint  of  why  we  had 
halted  in  this  place.  We  saw  the  Outliers 
drawn  up  into  some  sort  of  order,  with  the 
Far-Folk  opposing,  and  the  two  chiefs  be 
tween. 

We  hurried  and  came  up  to  that  privileged 
place  near  Trastevera  which  her  favor  re 
served  for  us,  and  I  observed  that  the  eyes  of 
Oca  burned  red  like  a  weasel's,  as  he  turned 
them  this  way  and  that  on  the  emerging  hills, 
fingering  his  great  beard.  The  glitter  of  wet 
on  his  shoulders  like  bronze,  touched  with  re 
flected  color  of  the  westering  fires,  the  bear 
skins  that  clothed  him  below,  and  the  blow 
ing  of  long  lip  locks  gave  him  an  appearance 
most  wild  and  befitting  the  hour.  He  looked, 


298  OUTLAND 

and  Persilope  looked,  standing  poised  and  at 
ease  as  a  stag  gazing. 

"It  is  a  good  land,"  said  the  King  of  the 
Outliers. 

"Good  enough." 

"And  large." 

"As  you  say,  large,"  admitted  the  King  of 
the  Far-Folk,  looking  askance,  his  hands  for 
ever  busy  with  his  beard. 

"Large  enough  for  two  peoples  to  live  in  it, 
each  unmolested?" 

Oca's  eyes  roved  over  the  whole  circle  of 
the  outlook  before  he  answered. 

"Large  enough." 

"Oca,"  said  the  young  man,  not  the  least 
troubled  by  this  curtness  nor  put  out  by  it, 
"you  have  done  us  as  much  harm  as  you  could, 
which  is  not  so  much  as  you  wished.  I  leave 
you  to  count  the  good  you  have  got  by  it.  It 
was  an  old  quarrel,  but  it  occurs  to  me  that 
since  the  chief  cause  of  it  has  ceased  to  exist, 
there  is  little  use  in  our  quarreling.  But  there 
is  no  reason  why  we  should  be  friends.  Do 
you  follow  me?" 

"You  are  plain  enough." 

"I  will  be  plainer.  Not  only  do  we  Out 
liers  wish  no  quarrel  with  you  but  we  wish 


HOW  WE  CAME  BACK  299 

never  to  set  eyes  on  you  again,  nor  so  much 
as  to  happen  on  the  places  where  you  have 
been.  Therefore  if  you  will  choose  you  out  a 
quarter  of  this  land,  which,  as  you  say,  is  large 
enough,  you  and  your  people  will  have  leave 
to  go  seven  days  in  that  direction,  after  which 
you  shall  see  no  more  of  us.  But  all  this  part 
where  we  have  been,  from  the  Ledge  to  Broken 
Tree,  is  forbidden  ground.  Neither  you  nor 
any  generation  of  yours  to  set  foot  in  it.  We 
will  see  to  that." 

He  spoke  with  a  controlled  and  quiet  energy 
that  fell  on  the  old  man's  fury  of  defeat  like 
steady  rain. 

"As  for  us,  we  shall  go  south  from  here  a 
great  distance.  So,"  said  Persilope,  "if  you 
choose,  to-morrow  my  men  will  set  you  on 
your  way,  and  you  shall  have  no  more  to  do 
with  us  except  of  your  own  seeking." 

Oca  looked  back  over  his  people  standing 
sullen  and  attentive,  and  read  but  one  thought 
in  them. 

"We  would  go  now,"  he  said. 

"As  you  will.    Only  choose." 

It  was  a  generous  offer,  but  perhaps  Persil 
ope  knew  his  man.  Oca  looked  north  and 
south :  he  must  have  had  by  his  wild  instinct 


300  OUTLAND 

the  better  knowledge  of  the  country.  He 
might  have  seen  in  that  unstinted  gaze  some 
trace — pale  smoke  ascending  or  pointed  roof 
— that  advised  him  of  the  neighborhood  of 
men,  men  to  be  plotted  against,  evaded,  pil 
fered  from,  to  give  to  his  life  the  zest  of  cun 
ning  that  it  craved.  He  stretched  his  hand 
northward. 

"I  will  go  there,"  he  said. 

"From  those  three  far  peaks,  then,  to  this 
broken  headland,  and  from  thence  as  the  crow 
flies  to  the  sea.  Do  you  accept  the  condi 
tions?" 

"O  Persilope,  what  else  is  there  to  do?" 

"Go,  then." 

On  the  motion  of  Persilope  stepping  back 
all  the  Outliers  fell  back  a  little  also  to  give 
them  room.  We  saw  the  Far-Folk  set  in  mo 
tion.  Oca  himself  went  a  few  paces,  but  he 
was,  after  all,  a  king;  words  of  thanks  stuck  in 
his  throat  no  doubt.  He  dragged  them  out, 
perhaps  by  the  process  of  tugging  at  the  locks 
of  his  beard. 

"Your  offer  is  just.  We  will  keep  faith  with 
you.  My  thanks  to  you,"  he  said,  and  when 
Persilope  had  dismissed  the  subject  with  a 


HOW  WE  CAME  BACK  301 

gesture,  he  turned  his  back  in  departing  and 
did  not  look  our  way  again. 

We  saw  them  go  down  the  hill  and  drown 
in  the  lake  of  mist,  and  after  an  interval  come 
out  on  the  other  side  rounding  a  hill  front, 
after  which  we  saw  them  no  more.  It  was  a 
visible  relief  to  the  Outliers  to  be  rid  of  them. 
We  moved  a  space  down  the  headland,  made 
cover  from  the  rain  and  slept  quietly. 

In  the  night  all  the  tide  of  mist  and  fog 
drained  out  to  sea  and  left  the  heavens  tender. 

By  the  sun  we  saw  that  we  had  come  much 
nearer  the  coast  than  I  had  realized ;  we  saw 
the  sapphire  spangled  belt  of  the  sea  lying 
low  under  the  hills,  and  suspected  a  faint  odor 
of  drying  weed  mixed  with  the  breath  of  the 
budding  forest.  Gladness  came  up  with  the 
sun  and  sang  the  love  of  life  awake. 

Spread  abroad  seeking  food,  we  heard  the 
Outliers  laughing  in  the  well  sunned  spaces. 
It  was  still  very  early  and  the  shadows  airy 
when  they  called  to  us.  They  came  about  us 
in  a  ring  of  friendly  faces,  and  it  was  so  good 
a  day  to  be  alive  in,  we  had  forgotten  to  be 
afraid  what  they  might  do  with  us. 

"You  heard  us  say  last  night,"  began  Persil- 
ope,  when  we  had  been  brought  before  him  in 


302  OUTLAND 

a  grass  walk  between  the  madronos,  "how  we 
should  go  south  from  here  where  the  forest 
comes  down  to  the  sea  and  there  are  no  House- 
Livers.  The  places  where  you  knew  us  we 
shall  not  know  again."  He  saddened  at  that, 
and  a  shadow  of  sadness  fell  on  all  their  faces. 
"But  I  doubt" — here  he  smiled — "if  we  were 
still  there,  whether  you  could  find  us  again." 

"Not  without  your  consent." 

"You  came  to  us  strangely,"  he  went  on,  "in 
a  strange  time,  and  trouble  entered  with  you." 

"Not  of  our  making,"  Herman  reminded 
him,  "nor  our  wishing." 

"We  are  sensible  of  that,  and  also  that  we 
had  good  from  you.  Therefore" — he  looked 
about  on  the  Outliers  and  the  nudging  and 
whisper  of  agreement  ran  from  group  to 
group  of  them — "we  wish  to  give  you  good 
in  return.  We  have  nothing  to  give  you  such 
as  House-Folk  value,  nothing  but  your  mem 
ory  of  us,  which  we  hope  you  may  hold  as  lov 
ingly  as  we  do  yours." 

"We  do  so,"  said  Herman. 

"Will  you  take  that  memory  then,  as  our 
gift  of  parting,  so  to  keep  it  as  the  best  we  have 
to  offer?" 

"So  to  keep  it  as  the  best  we  have  to  keep," 


HOW  WE  CAME  BACK  303 

consented  Herman  solemnly,  and  I  after  him. 

"Why  then,"  said  Persilope,  "there  is  noth 
ing  more  for  it  but  to  set  you  on  your  way  to 
Broken  Tree  again,  and  to  wish  you  Good 
Friending." 

The  good-bys  were  said  very  quickly;  they 
came  about  us  with  light  laughter  and  good 
wishes  and  broke  and  parted  into  the  wood 
again.  The  sun  and  the  spring  and  the  wind 
out  of  the  south  called  them.  I  sent  messages 
to  Evarra,  who  stayed  in  the  wood  beyond 
River  Ward  to  bury  Lianth.  Trastevera  and 
some  others  came  down  the  hill  with  us.  When 
we  had  traveled  rapidly  for  an  hour  they 
showed  us  the  moon-shaped  bay  and  the  moon- 
white  curve  of  the  beach  around  it,  and  the 
point  of  cypress  running  far  into  the  blue 
water.  Later  we  could  see  the  white  specks 
of  the  houses,  and  then  the  close  shouldering 
hills  and  the  moss-hung  pines,  the  oaks  lean 
ing  all  one  way  of  the  wind,  and  the  sea-blue 
slopes  of  ceanothus.  As  we  went  our  com 
panions  slipped  from  us,  melted  between 
sunny  space  and  woody  shadow,  and  mixed 
with  the  brown  and  green  of  the  wood  side. 
Now  we  saw  bright  regardful  eyes  and  fingers 
laid  on  lips — who  knew  what  men  folk  might 


3o4  OUTLAND 

be  stirring?  And  now  we  felt  to  right  or  left 
the  friendly  presences.  Finally,  when  we  had 
been  walking  I  do  not  know  how  long,  sudden 
ly  there  was  only  Herman  and  I  in  the  wood, 
and  no  other. 

"Herman,  Herman!"  I  said,  "they  are  gone, 
we  shall  never  see  them  again." 

He  looked  and  listened ;  nothing  moved  but 
the  flicker  of  sun  on  a  wind-stirred  leaf  or  a 
winged  insect  in  the  green  arcades  of  fern. 
Far  back  we  heard  the  call  of  jays  ending  in 
a  light  high  note  of  mocking  laughter. 

"Herman,  shall  we  never  find  them?" 

"Perhaps.  Who  knows?  The  trail  is  very 
plain  here.  If  we  take  pains  to  notice  it,  we 
might  come  this  way  again." 

"Yes,  let  us  keep  the  trail  at  least.  We 
must  find  the  place  again.  They  have  not  for 
bidden  us." 

We  followed  it  close  where  it  left  the  trees 
and  ran  in  the  grass  between  the  blossoming 
lilacs.  Wet  folded  poppies  bent  above  it. 

"It  was  a  good  time  we  had  with  them.  I 
cannot  bear  to  think  it  will  never  come  again." 

"Yes>  it  was  a  good  time.  How  long  was  it, 
Mona?" 

"How  should  I  know?    Do  you  remember, 


HOW  WE  CAME  BACK  305 

the  first  day  we  went  in  by  Broken  Tree  there 
was  the  first  spray  of  lilac  blossoming?" 

"I  remember." 

"And  now  all  the  slopes  are  blue  and  the  air 
too  sweet  with  them.  How  long  is  that?" 

"A  long  time,  I  think.  I  was  a  professor  of 
Sociology  then." 

"And  what  are  you  now?" 

"Something  more,  I  hope.  And — Mona,  I 
think  we  are  taking  the  best  part  of  Outland 
away  with  us." 

I  agreed  to  that  too,  as  we  walked  between 
the  blue  sprayed  fountains  of  ceanothus,  and 
felt  the  swing  of  the  earth  under  us. 

"Are  you  happy,  Mona?" 

"Yes.  Though  we  have  lost  them,  and  I 
shall  never  walk  alone  in  the  wood  again  with 
out  hoping  to  find  them.  I  am  happy,  but  I 
do  not  know  why." 

"And  have  you  quite  forgiven  me?" 

"For  what,  Herman?  I  have  nothing  to 
forgive  you." 

"For  not  being  more,  seeing  more  in  the  first 
place — for  such  a  number  of  things.  Have 
you — quite?" 

"Yes,  quite." 

We  walked  on  and  saw  the  curdled  line  of 


306  OUTLAND 

the  surf,  and  heard  the  long  sigh  that  passes 
up  from  the  sea  along  the  pines,  and  smelled 
the  beaches.  All  at  once  I  was  aware  of  the 
soft  springing  of  the  grass  under  foot. 

"Herman!  Herman  I  Where  is  the  trail? 
Look!  We  have  lost  it." 

We  looked,  and  there  was  the  locked  wood 
behind,  and  the  soft,  untrodden  turf  before. 

"It  was  here  by  the  buckthorn,  I  think." 

"By  the  ceanothus;  it  came  out  between  two 
pines."  But  though  we  looked  and  ran,  it  was 
not  in  either  of  these  places. 

"Herman,  we  shall  never  find  the  trail  to 
that  country  again." 

"Yes,  Mona." 

"Ah,  look  for  it,  Herman,  come  and  look!" 

Herman  stood  by  the  ceanothus  and  looked 
at  me  instead.  "Mona,"  he  said,  "the  trail  is 
here." 

"Where,  Herman?"  But  I  could  not  look 
at  him  where  he  stood  because  of  the  shining 
of  his  eyes. 

"Here,  Mona,"  he  answered  with  a  gesture, 
"here!" 

And  I  turned  and  found  it  on  his  breast. 

THE  END 


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